Princess Turns Peasant
by katie4cheer
Summary: Courtney runs away from the palace and her father, the king. She meets Duncan, a peasant, who teaches her how to live off barely anything. Could a princess ever fall in love with a peasant? Spin-off series to the story Al Capone and Duncan Malone.
1. Running Away

Courtney walked up the winding, stone staircase in a castle in England. She holds the mint green fabric of her dress in her small fists as she climbs up the stairs as fast as she could, high heels clicking on the steps. Finally, she shoves the heavy wooden door open and into her large bedroom suite at the top of the tower. Courtney slams the heavy door shut and slides the large metal bolt across the lock.

Her room was decorated fit for a, well, a princess. The bed was a queen-sized bed on mahogany posts, and the sheets were a creamy white color. There was a flowing canopy hanging down from the four posts above the bed, sweeping down to onto the floor. Various over-stuffed pillows and cashmere blankets were piled in various corners of the room, forming perfect reading corners to curl up in with the perfect book. Thick, royal rugs covered the cold stone floors. An over-sized mahogany dresser stood against one wall, packed with silk clothing. A creamy white vanity set with a large mirror and dozens of candles around it was pushed to the wall next to the dresser. The stone walls encircled the room in a circular shape, traveling higher and higher. At the very top of the ceiling, wooden rafters criss-crossed until a web of wood covered the stone ceiling. Large windows with fancy shutters let in the warm sunlight, making the whole room glow.

Courtney crossed the bedroom and opened two French doors, walking onto the balcony of her tower. She bends down to pick up her heavy, orange tabby cat who enjoyed being outside. But she takes her cat back into her room, shutting the French doors with her foot. Courtney collapses on her plush bed with her cat laying on her stomach and begins stroking the animal's fur. She always talked to her cat when she was depressed.

"Oh, Henry. I am so annoyed with Father! He thinks he knows everything," Courtney huffs. Her father, the king, had forbid his daughter to go see the large parade in the middle of town. She missed it every year due to his strict rules, but she had expected him to finally let her go see it since she had recently turned eighteen. The parade seemed like the last straw after a lifetime of being told what and what not to do. Henry lifts his head and meows at Courtney, who had stopped petting him for a moment. "Sorry," she apologizes and begins petting him again.

She started looking around her room, looking for a solution to her problems. One dresser door was open, spilling priceless garments all over her stone floor. Although, in her angry state, she didn't care one bit. Courtney finally registers a murky brown fabric shoved at the back of the dresser, piled in a ball. She stands up from her bed, leaving Henry meowing angrily at the end of his pampering.

"Oh, hush," she scolds him as she reaches an arm to the far back of her dresser. She grabs the rough fabric and pulls it out, holding it in front of her. It was a raggedy dress that looked exactly like a peasant's dress. Maybe it belonged to one of her servants whose laundry accidentally got mixed up with hers.

A slow grin spread across Courtney's face as she formulated a plan to escape the castle.

She stripped down into her bra and underwear and she slipped the crude dress over her shoulders. It was a ruddy ruby color, but had a more brown tint, making it look burgundy. The dress fell in pleats down to her ankles, and the fabric gathered at her waist with a thick white ribbon that tied behind her back. The neckline was a V-neck with a white collar. The sleeves were short cap-sleeves that cut off just past her shoulders, with white cuffs buttoned with a clear button. She took off her green high heels and changed into brown leather sandals.

Courtney spun in the mirror, satisfied with her new look. She seemed as if she was a pure commoner, like a servant or a peasant. Courtney took a brown silk scarf from her dresser and wrapped it around her head. She unlocked her bedroom door and quickly walked down the stairs to the main floor of the castle. She snuck into a crowd of servants carrying large baskets of laundry on their heads.

The women walked out of the castle doors, with guards guarding both sides of the open front doors. They walked across the wooden drawbridge, sandals and bare feet shuffling on the wood. After they were safely past the drawbridge, the guards lifted the drawbridge to reveal the moat again. The herd of laundry ladies turned a corner on their way to the river to wash the clothes, but Courtney kept walking straight to the center of town.

The tiny houses were made of a mix of mud, grass, and clay. Wooden rafters stuck through the hardened mix provided extra support, especially to the buildings with multiple floors. Clothing lines were strung haphazardly between high buildings, and the clothing fluttered in the wind. Salespeople with carts and stalls sold everything from jewelry to produce to clay bowls. A few entertainers performed acts like sword-swallowing, fire breathing, and magic tricks to try to earn an extra coin or two.

Courtney soon got lost in the many side streets and alleys, but she didn't care much, since even the small shops on the outskirts of town were entertaining. She walks along the line of stalls, vendors trying to catch her attention. Finally, she reaches an apple cart with a poor peasant boy standing in front of it. He seemed to be about two years old with shaggy black hair and a ratty brown shirt that was one size too large for him. The little kid was bare foot, and staring hungrily at the apples.

"Aw, you must be starving," Courtney gushes. She takes an apple off the shelf and hands it to the boy, whose face lights up in delight. "There you go." Once the boy had the apple, he ran off with it, presumably to go share it with his family.

Courtney begins to walk away, but the muscular vendor stomps around his stall and grabs her thin wrist. She gasps as she was yanked back and asks, "Oh, can I help you?"

"Yes," he growls, "You can _help_ me by paying me for that apple you just stole from me."

"I… I didn't steal the apple! I just gave it too that poor little boy. He looked hungry, and you obviously have more than enough apples for yourself…," Courtney explains, motioning to his stall with her free hand.

"_That_ is called _stealing_, young lady! Aren't you aware of the penalty used for stealing?" the vendor threatens. He yanks her wrist and holds it against the wooden counter of his stall. He withdraws a long sword from a belt loop and raises it high into the air.

Courtney gasps and her eyes fill with tears. "No!" she shouts, pulling at her wrist with all her strength.

Suddenly, somebody plows into the vendor, and they go tumbling to the ground. Courtney falls backwards, since she had been pulling on her wrist when she was let go. The salesman's sword clatters away from the fight, and fists are being thrown. The man who had saved Courtney leaps off of the vendor and grabs her wrist, pulling her to her feet.

"Run!" the teen boy commands her, pulling her along. They race through several alleys and up multiple flights of stairs. A few men give chase, but the two teens are too fast for them. While they were walking up the last flight of stairs, he hops onto the rooftop and reaches over to help Courtney.

She takes his hand and she steps onto the stone roof, but immediately trips over a protruding rock. She stumbles into his arms with her hands on his shoulders, and he catches her with his hands on her waist. The mysterious teen smirks, revealing a row of perfectly straight teeth, and Courtney pulls away.

A blush creeps along her cheeks and she toys with the scarf around her head. "I would like to thank you for stopping that man," she tells him.

The teen waves it off and replies, "Forget it. It was no big deal."

He fumbles with the lock of a door, and Courtney takes that time to check him out. He had shiny, black hair that slightly covered his ears and a muscular body. He was wearing white ratty parachute pants that were full of patches and stopped just below his knees. His shirt was merely a green vest that showed off his arm muscles. Finally, he had picked the lock on the door and it swung open. When he turned to Courtney to motion inside, she noticed he had the most enticing eyes ever. They were a deep blue-green color that left her head feeling dizzy and her stomach feeling fluttery.

She stepped inside the little room. It was very dim, and the only object that she could make out was a flight of stairs that spiraled upwards. Other than that, there were broken clay pots, rotten wooden support beams, molding carpets, the squeaking of rats, boarded-up windows, and unrecognizable trash. "Is this where you live?" Courtney asks nervously.

"No, not really, I live at the top of these stairs. So, uh, is this your first time in the marketplace?" he asks.

"Is it that obvious?" Courtney replies as they begin the long ascent up the stairs.

"Well, you do kinda stand out," he tells her, "You don't seem to dangerous the marketplace can be."

"Yeah… Thanks for that, again. What's your name?"

"Duncan. And you?"

"I'm Courtney," she says, hoping he doesn't get the connection with her having the same name as the princess and no experience in the marketplace. Luckily, he doesn't. Instead, they reach the top of the stairs and he grabs fistfuls of fabric with dozens of patches and rips in it. He tosses the curtain aside and reveals the place where he lives.

"Alright, Princess, this is the place I call home," he announces, sitting down on a window seat with cushions spilling stuffing out of their broken seams.

"I'm not a princess!" Courtney immediately retorts, face turning red while trying to keep her secret.

Duncan laughs. "Don't get your panties in a knot, babe. Of course your not. _Royalty_ wouldn't stoop down so low as to associate with us lower-class peasants," he says bitterly.

Courtney puts her hands on her hips. "Well, not _all_ royalty feels that way. Some hate the way they feel trapped within the walls of the palace, and the way they're always being bossed around and being told what to do," she replies.

"Oh, and how would _you_ know?" Duncan asks her sarcastically.

She lifts her chin and looks down at him. "I know people," she answers generally. Courtney turns to survey Duncan's home. The packed-dirt floor was covered with dusty rugs and random pieces of cloth. A wooden dresser was shoved up against a wall, drawers pulled out and stuffed with clothing. Ropes and more strips of cloth hang from the wooden rafters of the ceiling. Ceramic jars, jugs, and pots are stacked against one wall in a precarious-looking pile, like it could topple over at any second. But the thick layer of dust on the pottery showed that it had been there a while. Two lamps were fastened to the walls on either side of the room, and a rope was strung between the two. Clothing hung on the line, drying in the air. There was a pile of ratty pillows and shaggy blankets on top of a straw mattress, which Courtney figured was Duncan's bed.

It was nothing like the palace, but Courtney thought the room looked almost comfy, in a last-resort kind of way.

"How long have you lived here?" she asks.

"Ever since I was ten, when my dad left and my mom died."

"I'm sorry," Courtney murmurs.

Duncan shrugs and opens the curtain by the window seat, revealing an eagle-eye view of the entire marketplace. "I got used to it," he replies. Courtney walks over to the window, which was next to the pile of old cracking pottery. She peeks over the window seat, which had to ledge to block the far plummet to the street if one was to fall, to get a look at the tiny stalls below. Suddenly, a green-and-black tarantula the size of her hand falls from the ceiling and plops on the floor right at Courtney's feet. She lets out an ear-shattering scream, causing Duncan to wince at the high decibels.

Courtney backs into the wall of pottery, causing a few vases to topple over and smash on the floor. One jar topples over from the top of the stack and crashes onto the floor, right on top of the tarantula, and pottery shards fly across the floor. Some goo oozes out from under the mess, causing Courtney to scream again. She stumbles backwards again and trips over a pile of blankets, falling right on top of Duncan's bed.

"Scruffy!" Duncan exclaims, hopping up from the bed and carefully removing pottery shards from the green goo.

"What's a… Wait, you… That thing was… Was Scruffy… That tarantula was your _pet_?!" Courtney asks disbelievingly. Duncan nods, and she wraps her arms around herself to try to stop shaking. The last piece of pottery was removed, showing a nasty mix of hairy tarantula legs and goopy spider intestines.

Duncan scrapes Scruffy's body off the floor with a sharp piece of pottery and tosses it out the open window. He smirks at Courtney and settles back down on the window seat. She suspiciously sits up on his bed and lifts an eyebrow. "So… you're not mad? I just killed your pet! I mean, uh, Scruffy," she says cautiously.

Duncan waves off her comment and puts his arms behind his head. "Yeah. I loved him, but he ate too much. Two mouths are hard to feed when I'm the only one doing any work. I thought about killing him before, but hey, if I failed to kill him, he'd bite me. And he's poisonous, you know. I wasn't gonna risk my life for a little extra food," he explains. Courtney nods.

"So, do you need a place to stay?" Duncan asks, "You probably don't want to go back to the marketplace with the guards after you."

**

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(Author's Note: Okay, so I don't think this was a good beginning. Blah. But did anybody notice something? I based this off of Aladdin, except they live in England, not the Middle East. But, God, I used to love Aladdin when I was little. Believe it or not, I used to be jealous of Jasmine. Lol. Sorry about how this chapter was a LOT like the movie, but I promise the rest of the story won't be like that. I'm only using the idea of how they met each other and their roles in the story: Courtney, the rich princess, and Duncan, the poor beggar.)


	2. Lessons of Thievery

Courtney wakes up to the sound of creaking wood. She sits up in a hurry, looking around her to find the source of the noise. She was wrapped in blankets, which were surprisingly comfy compared to their appearance, and was surrounded with pillows. She stands up from her warm cocoon and looks out the open window. Courtney kept her distance, however, since she was still afraid of how far away the ground was.

Wooden carts were being pulled through the street by donkeys and mules, vendors on their way to the stalls. The sun rose in the distance, pouring a pink-orange tint over the stucco buildings of the kingdom. Little kids chased after their mothers, who carried large pots on their heads. Suddenly, a hand grabs her shoulder, and Courtney flinches. She grabs the window seat, afraid to fall out the window. The hand snaps away from her shoulder, and she turns to look at Duncan.

"You nearly gave me a heart attack!" she shrieks, clutching her chest. The knuckles of her other hand, which was grasping the cushion, were white from the pressure. Courtney slowly stood up and Duncan handed her half a small loaf of bread.

"God, I was just gonna give you breakfast. No need to lash out at me," he replies. Duncan reclines in his bed, bare feet propped up on a pile of blankets. He puts a hand behind his head and bites a huge chunk out of his bread. In seconds, he had eaten his breakfast.

Meanwhile, Courtney rips off small sections of her piece of bread and pops them in her mouth. Duncan stares hungrily at her bread. Then he groans and shakes his head with his eyes shut. "You better be satisfied I gave you that bread. I could have given you nothing," he threatens. Courtney holds her half-eaten loaf out to him.

"You can have it. I'm not hungry," she tells him. Duncan looks at her warily, then shakes his head and waves off the offer.

"Nah. You're a girl."

"Well, aren't _you_ such a gentleman," Courtney teases.

"Only to girls. But I'm _not_ soft," he warns, pointing a finger at her.

"Oh, sure," Courtney replies, rolling her eyes with an amused grin on her face. Duncan stands up from his bed and he walks over to Courtney with a smirk on his face. He leans over her, causing her to lean away from him. He braces himself by putting a hand on either wall on both sides of the window seat. She peers nervously out the window to the drop below, which was right next to her.

Duncan got so close to her that she could feel his breath on her neck, and chest was barely an inch away from hers. Courtney couldn't lean back any father, or she would fall from the window. Her heart began beating quickly, and her breathing grew shallow. She was sure Duncan was going to kiss her for a second, but then he pulled away, chuckling. "You sure get nervous easily, Princess," he tells her.

Courtney glares at him as she places her cool hands over her cheeks to try to stop herself from blushing. Once her cheeks were under control, she stood up and slapped Duncan's bare arm. "You suck!" she exclaims.

Duncan chuckles, slightly shaking his head. Then his smirk fades and he just looks her in the face. "Do you trust me?" he asks. There was no smirk, grin, or smile on his face and not any glint, sparkle, or emotion in his eyes. Courtney had no idea how to respond.

Finally, she answered, "Yes…?"

Wrong answer. A mischievous smirk popped up on Duncan's lips and he grabbed Courtney be the waist, putting almost the entirety of one arm around her. He leaped out of the window by leaping off the window seat. His spare hand was clamped over Courtney's mouth, which was wide open and was begging to let a scream out.

They fall for what seems like eternity, but was actually five seconds. They land in a deep pile of itchy golden hay, and Duncan immediately lets go of Courtney's mouth. When he does, she immediately starts ranting. Duncan stays still deep beneath the pile of straw, but Courtney keeps trying to stand up and extract herself from the smelly farm material.

"_You_ are absolutely _crazy_! You could have killed us! You should be grateful this pile of hay was right here, or else I'll… or I'll have… You better believe me, if I had gotten hurt, I could guarantee there would be no possible way for you to have kids in your future! And all because of some utterly _stupid_, unintelligent, brainless, dim-witted stunt you chose to perform! And what was even the _purpose_?" she hisses, clawing at the straw walls to try to climb out of the pit they had drilled into the pile when they fell into it.

"Hey, Princess, you done griping already? Because you're doing it all wrong," Duncan tells her. Courtney turns to face him, a permanent pout on her face.

"Oh. _I'm_ trying to escape this pit _wrong_?" she demands. Duncan sits up and grabs her wrists, pulling her down on top of him. Once again Courtney finds herself breathless. She could feel his muscular chest through her thin peasant's dress, and his piercing teal eyes held her in a trace. Duncan wrapped his arms around her shoulders, securing her to his body, and he rolls to the left. Their bodies pack down the straw, and soon they break through a wall of hay and then they're laying on the cold cobblestone floor of an alley.

Courtney immediately hops off of Duncan and brushes all the straw off of her that was clinging to the rough fabric of her dress. Duncan gets off the ground, too, and brushes himself off. There was hardly any hay on him, though, since he was barely wearing a shirt because his vest was unbuttoned. "Hey, you still got some straw on you…," he tells Courtney.

He reaches over and brushes some strands of straw off her butt. Her body flushes with heat and Courtney spins around, slapping his hand away. Duncan lets out a loud, carefree, uninhibited laugh. Even though she loved his laugh, Courtney scolded, "God! I take back what I said about you being a gentleman."

Duncan winks at her and she wrinkles her nose. "M'kay, darling, I'm gonna show you how to steal food so you can start pulling your own weight if you're going to be living with me for a while," he explains, leading her behind an alley where food scraps and rotten fruit was tossed from the stalls. The smell of rotting produce was so strong, Courtney had to breathe through her mouth. Bad idea. The stench was so strong you could practically taste it. Flies danced through the air, tickling her skin as she walked through hordes of them.

"What do you mean? I'm not staying with you! I can survive on my own," Courtney retorts, crossing her arms.

"Oh, really?" Duncan defends himself, "Without me, you wouldn't even have a right hand!" Courtney just stands there, arms crossed and looking at the ground, knowing that Duncan was right. "Besides, you wouldn't be able to find another place to stay."

"Yes, I could!"

"Do you know how long it took me to get the place I have now? I slept in alleys for two years. I finally won that tower in a game of poker."

"Poker?" Courtney scoffs. Poker was a game for peasants and drunkards and smokers with nothing to do. She couldn't believe Duncan knew a rouge game like that. Of course he was a peasant, but…

"You don't know how to play poker?" Duncan asks disbelievingly. He knows Courtney's answer by her silence. "Okay, sometime I'll teach you. But right now, I'm going to teach you how to be a thief."

Duncan leaps onto the wall and pulls himself over, disappearing over the top. Courtney looks to her right then her left for a way around the high stucco wall, but it seemed to go on forever. Courtney jumped, arms raised, grasping for the wall but connecting with nothing but air. She let out a frustrated sigh and Duncan reappeared, forearms resting on the top of the wall. "Too short for the jump, sweetheart?" he teases her.

"Just help me over so we can get this criminal lesson over with!" Courtney exclaims. Duncan holds his hands down and she jumps, grabbing his hands. His arm muscles flex as he lifts her over the wall. Courtney swings her legs over the top and leaps down next to him.

"Lesson One: Don't look jittery. It draws attention and the vendors will be watching us like hawks," Duncan teaches her. They walk along the side of the street, making their pace slow and casual. Courtney basically just mimicked Duncan's movements so she wouldn't ruin their operation.

"Stop staring at me. I know I'm irresistible, but just act normal and walk. Lesson Two: Move with the crowd. The vendors won't be able to pick out a thief out of all the people at the marketplace," Duncan instructs, and they join the crowd of people moving at a feet-shuffling pace.

"Lesson Three: While moving with the herd, scope out a stall with a scrawny vendor and a lot of people around him," Duncan explains. He cranes his neck inconspicuously and grabs Courtney's hand. "Lesson Four: Merge into the crowd around the stall you're going to steal from, and get out of the crowd moving onwards down the marketplace."

They meander over to a banana stall with an elderly vendor. He had a cane that seemed permanently attached to his left hand, since he never let go of it even when he was picking up crates of bananas, trading with customers, and keeping track of sales by writing it down on a scroll with a feather pen and an ink well. Judging by the tiny oval glasses perched on his pointy nose and his squinty eyes, he had poor eyesight, too. Duncan bumps into a middle-aged man in the crowd and says, "Pardon me," while his hand expertly dips into his leather coin satchel, revealing a shiny gold coin.

"How did you pick-pocket him without him even noticing?" Courtney whispers, tugging on Duncan's vest for his attention.

"I'll teach you pick-pocketing later," Duncan replies, winking at her. He balances the coin on top of his fist, sticks his thumb under the coin, and flips it towards Courtney. She catches it clumsily and looks at him for instruction. "Okay, Lesson Five: One person goes and distracts the vendor while another person, that would be me, steals the object. Whenever you're not working with a partner, you just steal whenever the vendor happens to be busy. So go over there and buy a banana."

Courtney nods and slips through the crowd to the opposite side of the banana stall. Bananas were stacked in crates on the floor, piled in bunches on the wood counter, hanging and hanging from ropes tied to the roof. "Excuse me, sir!" Courtney calls out, shoving her way to the front of the crowd. She leans against the banana counter and shines the gold coin in the sunlight, catching the vendors' attention. He shuffles over to Courtney and squints at her.

"Why hello, young lady. How may I help you this fine evening?" the vendor asks in a shaky, old voice. Suddenly, Courtney felt extremely guilty for helping steal from this old man. She met Duncan's eye over the man's shoulder and he nods at her encouragingly.

Courtney faces the old man and asks in her sweetest voice possible, "Yes, sir, I was wondering if I could purchase a banana from you."

"Why, of course! That will be one gold coin from the lovely lady," he tells her. Courtney slowly reaches over the counter and hands over the coin. She could see Duncan pocketing as many bananas as he could slip by unnoticed into his baggy pant pockets. Suddenly, the old man begins to turn around. Courtney lashes out and grabs the man's shirt sleeve.

"Actually, I, uh, was interested in this specific banana," she tells him, pointing at a large bunch of bananas hanging from a petite string right in front of her.

"Yes, I'm sorry, but my most _freshest_ bananas are right over--"

The old man begins to turn around again, and Courtney practically drags him back to the counter in less than a second. "No, _I'm_ sorry. But I've had my eye on this banana for the longest time, and I just now earned a gold coin to afford it. I'd really like _this_ banana," Courtney lies off the top of her head. Duncan finally slipped away from the stall, pockets full.

"Well, if you insist." The man rips the banana from the rope and hands it to Courtney. Before he could even tell her to 'have a nice day', she had disappeared in the direction that Duncan had gone. She looks around the crowd for him, clutching the buttery yellow banana in her clammy hands.

"Nice work, Princess," she hears a velvety voice behind her say, "I almost thought you were going to chicken out for a second."

She turns around and smirks at Duncan. She puts the hand clutching the banana on her hip. "Me? Chicken out? As if," Courtney answers. Duncan slings an arm around her shoulders and steers her into the crowd in the middle of the street. Courtney smiles in his approval and tries to memorize her way back to Duncan's house.

**

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(Author's Note: Yes! Aladdin was my favorite fairy-tale-movie-thing when I was little. I was writing the last chapter a few days ago and I was like 'Gee, I wish I could watch Aladdin again.' Then I was flipping through TV channels, and I saw Aladdin! I missed the beginning, but I totally freaked out. Lol.)


	3. Courtney's Challenge

"So, Princess, where you from?" Duncan asks, his back leaning against the wall on one side of the window seat. Courtney was sitting across from him, leaning against the other wall. Duncan's room was on one side of her, and the long drop to the marketplace was on the other side.

"What does it matter?" Courtney replies, looking at the view from the high window. The peasants in the marketplace below looked to be only an inch tall. They didn't quite look like ants (Duncan's room wasn't _that_ high off the ground), but the people were definitely smaller. "I ran away from home, and I'm _not_ going back."

"Well why'd you run away?" Duncan asks. He swiftly picks up a banana peel from the floor and tosses it out the window. The strong winds of the kingdom make the sunny yellow peels flutter in the wind before spiraling down and plopping on the dusty alley floor.

"Let's just say I didn't like the way I was being pushed around."

"So you just left? Ooh, you rebel," Duncan teases. Courtney gives him a half-smile, and suddenly trumpets start blaring from the center of the marketplace. A man on a horse rides through the thick crowd, and the crowd parts ahead of him. He carried a fat, creamy-white scroll under his armpit and he took it out. The man took his time unrolling it, and he cleared his throat so loud that she could hear it from high in Duncan's room.

She finally realized what the town crier was probably going to say.

Courtney leapt off the window seat and fell to her knees. She scrambled to her feet and began murmuring, "Oh, God… Oh, God… Oh, God." She paced back and forth while Duncan looked at her with curiosity. Once the town crier started to speak, however, he turned his attention from her to the man with the scroll.

"_Princess Courtney _has been _kidnapped_ from the _palace_!" the town crier announced, emphasizing nearly every other word, "She went _missing yesterday_, but no _ransom note _has been sent to the _palace_! If _anybody_ knows of her _whereabouts_, they will be _rewarded_ with a _large sum _of _compensation_!"

Duncan's head slowly turned to Courtney, and she bit her lip nervously while he just stared at her. He stands up and crosses the room while Courtney just stands there. He takes her scarf in his hands and gently unties the knot, pushing her scarf off her head.

Courtney's brown locks of hair cascade around her face, brushing against her freckled cheeks. Duncan immediately jumps away from her. "Aw, _shit_!" he exclaims. He runs his hands through his hair and begins pacing across the room, just like Courtney had been doing before. She lets her silky scarf flutter to the floor and land in a pile. She tries combing her fingers through her hair since it had been tied up for a whole day.

"Why didn't you tell me?!" Duncan hisses, whirling on Courtney. She flinches. He was barely inches away from her. Courtney barely shook her head, so small of a movement that Duncan didn't even see it. "Well?!" he demands.

"Why _would_ I tell you?" Courtney asks logically. She and Duncan stare each other down for a long time under Duncan breaks the trance. He turns away and sits on the window seat with a heavy sigh. He glances out the window before whipping the curtain shut, thrusting the room into darkness.

"Good point," Duncan murmurs. Courtney stands still while her eyes take a while getting used to the sudden darkness. She could barely make out Duncan's silhouette against the curtain. "You know, I have half a mind to bring you to the palace for that compensation."

"No!" Courtney exclaims. She rushes over to the window seat and sits next to Duncan. "Please. It's terrible living at the palace."

Duncan scoffs and sticks a finger through a rip of the curtain. He pulls on a thread until it snaps off and wraps it around his finger. He watches his finger turn a dark red-purple color before he lets go. The thread flutters to the ground. "You have servants, slaves, people will jump off a cliff at your command. You have food, a fucking huge house, and power. You're the _princess_ of the whole entire _kingdom_!" Duncan practically shouts. Then his voice lowers to a low mumble, "How can you say you hate the palace when some people have nothing?"

This time, it was Courtney's turn to scoff. "Nothing? Duncan, to me, you have _every_thing! You can come and go as you please. Your life is, like, _never_ boring. You're constantly jumping out of random windows, stealing from the stalls in the bazaar, and running away from guards. You're room is actually _cozy_, for one. My room is like a prison cell to me," Courtney admits.

Duncan lifts an eyebrow. "Are you serious? God, if only you and me could switch lives somehow. I bet we'd be the happiest people on earth," he tells her.

Courtney nods. "I'd give anything to become a peasant. No rules, no having to be polite, no being a princess, no nothing!"

Duncan smirks at her and says, "You wouldn't be able to last two _weeks_ as a peasant."

Courtney rolls her eyes and replies, "Alright. If you can teach me to be a peasant and you can keep me away from palace officials for two weeks, I'll bring you to the palace. In fact, I'll even tell Father that you saved my life so he should _double_ the compensation. But _only_ if I'm a sad excuse of a peasant. If I can _thrive_ as a peasant, however, you get no compensation and I will be out of your hair."

"Is that a challenge?" Duncan asks with a smirk.

"You bet it is," Courtney answers. They stare at each other for a long time while Duncan makes up his mind.

Finally, he says, "Deal." He spits in his palm and holds it out towards Courtney. She looks at it in disgust, lip curled up. "It's part of being a peasant," Duncan provokes her, "You have to do it, unless you just want to give me that compensation now."

Courtney spits in her palm and shakes Duncan's hand with a triumphant grin on her face. He grins back and her and stands up from the window seat. "I'll start packing our stuff. We need to get out of here soon, and as far away from the palace as possible," he tells her.

Duncan leans down into the dresser and riffles through the drawers, tossing random articles of clothing in a burlap sack. With his back to her, Courtney secretly wipes his saliva off her palm on the cushion of the window seat.

**

* * *

**

(Author's Note: I know this chapter was short, and I'm sorry. It's mainly a filler chapter to build up the mood for when they run away from the marketplace.

OMG!!! Everybody! I am giving you all an assignment, okay?? Go to and vote for Duncan, like, a million times! Because maybe… okay, I know this sounds like a really shallow thing for Courtney to do, but she might start liking Duncan again if he, you know, has money… Okay, I seriously have no idea. But still! Go vote for him! )


	4. Hitch Hiking

"Shh," Duncan warns, putting his finger on his lips for emphasis. Courtney nods in response as he leads her through a dark, and smelly, alley. Laundry ominously fluttered on clothes lines above their head in the warm summer night air. It was about midnight. They quickly walked into the main road of the marketplace, which seemed creepy at night since it was so empty compared to the roaring busyness during the day. Dust was kicked up into the air with each step, making their eyes water.

They reach the end of the street and face the road going out of town. There is a large pile of boulders stacked on the side of road from construction when the road was first constructed. But nobody had cleaned up the mess yet. Duncan and Courtney crouch behind the boulders with their luggage in their laps. Duncan was holding a burlap sack with clothes and supplies. Courtney was holding a small handkerchief tied around a plump loaf of bread.

The full moon was shining down from the black sky, making everything look nearly enchanted. A warm breeze ruffles tree limbs and clothing lines. A lonely wolf howls at the moon in the distance, far away, though his cry echoes through the hills. "What are we waiting for?" Courtney whispers, not wanting to break the spell by talking too loudly.

"Here it is," Duncan replies in a whisper. He peeks around the boulders at the road behind them, and a large cart full of straw was being pulled by a team of donkeys. As they drew closer, their heehawing became more pronounced by the dry air around them. An old man sat on a wooden seat, holding the rains. The man was so frail that he rocked to and fro with each bump of the cart so hard it looked almost as if he'd fall out of the cart. Behind the cart was another cart of straw that was chained to the back of the first cart.

Once the carts were ahead of them, Duncan grabbed Courtney's hand and pulled her towards the carts. They tip-toed in the night air and he tossed the burlap sack he was carrying into the pile of straw in the second cart. "We're _hitch-hiking_?" Courtney hisses as Duncan climbs into the cart. He nestles into the straw and looks at her.

"It's the easiest way to run away. Or are you just planning on walking the whole way?" he asks. Courtney rolls her eyes and clumsily climbs into the pile of straw. She still held the small package of bread against her chest.

A few minutes later, she looks at Duncan with disgust. She smacks his shoulder and whispers, "You perv! Get your hand off my butt!"

Duncan holds both his hands in the air and replies, "I'm not touching you at all, darling!" Then, he wiggles his eyebrows suggestively and suggests, "Though it's not a bad idea."

Courtney flinches and jumps into Duncan's lap. She had abandoned the bread in a rush, leaving it sitting in the soft golden straw that smelled like barn animals. Her eyes were wide with fear and was focused on the matted down hay that she had been sitting on. Her hands clench Duncan's vest in an iron-like grip.

"Well, well, well. First you call me a perv, then you jump into my lap. Even though you want me so badly, Princess, you're gonna have to wait till we're off this wagon," Duncan teases. Courtney punches his thigh and he winces.

"There's something underneath there! It freaking pinched my butt!" she whispers, barely audible over the creaking wagon wheels, the donkeys' wheezing, and the old farmer's off-key singing.

Duncan reaches over and runs his fingers through the straw. The hay is pushed back, and a lean brown rat hisses at them. It's eyes were red and it's claws were long. Hearing Courtney's sharp intake of breath, Duncan clamps a hand over her mouth so she can't give them away with her scream. The vermin lunges for Duncan's spare hand with it's sharp yellow incisors and Duncan kicks his foot out. His leather sandal connects with the rat's side, and it flies out of the wagon and lands on the road with a plop.

The rat doesn't move.

Duncan finally lets go of Courtney's mouth and she starts trembling. "_Eww_," she moans. Duncan softly pets her hair as she curls up in a ball, trying not to touch any part of her body to the straw in fear of more rats. She stays in his lap the rest of the wagon ride.

* * *

Courtney feels something jostling her shoulder. She opens her eyes and looks at Duncan's face, which was a mere inch from hers. "Hmm?" she murmurs sleepily.

"This is where we get off, Princess," he tells her. Courtney groans in refusal, laying her head back on his chest and closing her eyes. Duncan lifts her over his shoulder, grabs the burlap sack and bread, and hops off the wagon. He walks off the side of the road and into the outlying forest. The farmer went on driving his donkeys, without notice to his spare passengers.

"I can walk!" Courtney demands, writhing on top of Duncan's shoulder. He sets her on her feet and she walks beside him with a determined pout on her face. They walk deeper into the forest, with Courtney constantly tripping over tree roots and protruding rocks and scraggly weeds and rotten logs.

"Okay, obviously you _can't_ walk. Let me carry you at least until the sun comes up so you don't end up breaking anything," Duncan points out. Not waiting for Courtney's response, he hands her the bread and the burlap sack. Confused, she clings to them as she scoops her up in his arms bridal-style. She holds the packages in her lap with a scowl.

Duncan carries her through the thick forest, past moss-covered trees and clingy bushes. Courtney notices an X carved into the trunk of a tree. In a few minutes of walking, she sees another one pass by. Then, to show it wasn't a coincidence, she saw one more on a tree trunk later on. "Duncan, admit it. We're lost. You have no idea where we're going," she accuses.

"What do mean, darling?" Duncan asks. He sets her down on the ground, since dim sunlight was starting to trickle through the thick canopy of leaves above their head so she'd be able to see the path by now. Courtney shoves the bread and the burlap sack into Duncan's arms. She marches over to a tree and stabs her finger at the X carved into the trunk.

"We have _passed_ this _same_ X three times already," she points out.

Duncan rolls his eyes. "I carved those there," he tries to explain.

"I know. And we've passed the same carving three times."

"No, Princess. Those were different X's. I left them as a trail so I'd know how to get back to the clearing," Duncan explains.

"What clearing?"

"This clearing," he says, enveloping her hand in his big hand. He pulls her towards a thick curtain of damp vines which were hanging from tree limbs woven above their heads. Duncan pushes aside the dangling vines with the wrist of his right hand, revealing a large forest clearing.

But the clearing wasn't empty. In fact, it was far from it.

**

* * *

**

**(Author's Note: Cliff hanger. Kinda. Do you guys remember that show Between the Lions on PBS Kids? I was in kindergarten when I was OBSESSED with that show. And you know that mini-show on Between the Lions called Cliff Hanger? Omg!!! I get the tune stuck in my head every time I hear the words "cliff hanger"… lol. "Cliff! Hanger! Hanging from a cliff! And that's why he's called Cliff Hanger!" Look it up on YouTube if you don't remember it, or if you've never seen it before. The song is Thunder by Boys Like Girls.)**

**

* * *

**

_Today is a winding road  
That's taking me to places that I didn't want to go, whoa  
Today in the blink of an eye  
I'm holding on to something and I do not know why I tried_

I tried to read between the lines  
I tried to look in your eyes  
I want a simple explanation; what I'm feeling inside  
I gotta find a way out  
Maybe there's a way out

Your voice was the soundtrack of my summer  
Do you know you're unlike any other?  
You'll always be my thunder, and I said  
Your eyes are the brightest of all the colors  
I don't wanna ever love another  
You'll always be my thunder  
So bring on the rain  
And bring on the thunder

Today is a winding road  
Tell me where to start and tell me something I don't know, whoa  
Today I'm on my own  
I cant move a muscle and I cant pick up the phone, I don't know

And now I'm itching for the tall grass  
And longing for the breeze  
I need to step outside, just to see if I can breathe  
I gotta find a way out  
Maybe there's a way out

Your voice was the soundtrack of my summer  
Do you know you're unlike any other?  
You'll always be my thunder, and I said  
Your eyes are the brightest of all the colors  
I don't wanna ever love another  
You'll always be my thunder  
So bring on the rain,  
And bring on the thunder.

Yeah I'm walking on a tightrope  
I'm wrapped up in vines  
I think Ill make it out but you just gotta give me time  
Strike me down with lightning  
Let me feel you in my veins  
I wanna let you know how much I feel your pain

Today is a winding road  
That's taking me to places that I didn't want to go, whoa

Your voice was the soundtrack of my summer  
Do you know you're unlike any other?  
You'll always be my thunder, and I said  
Your eyes are the brightest of all the colors  
I don't wanna ever love another  
You'll always be my thunder, and I said

Your voice was the soundtrack of my summer  
Do you know you're unlike any other?  
You'll always be my thunder  
So bring on the rain  
Oh baby bring on the pain

And listen to the thunder.


	5. Gypsy

The clearing was a camp for a migrating clan of gypsies.

There were fabric-covered wagons lining the edge of the clearing in a large circle. Blankets littered the ground, creating a makeshift carpet. Clothing lines were draped between the wagons, and donkeys were tied to trees. A few straw chickens ran around the clearing, clucking and pecking at the ground. Lanterns swung from the corners of the wagons, casting the soft glow of candles into the open space. Tents were littered here and there, green fabric held up by sticks. A large bonfire was roaring in the center of the clearing.

Belly-dancing around the fire were scantily-clad young women in short dresses. Their silky wrap skirts were wrapped around their body with bells hanging from the fringe. The silk was practically transparent, so you could see the short shorts they were wearing underneath. Their tops hardly covered more area than a sport's bra. They wore clingy tube tops that barely covered their large chests. Bells hung from thin strands of thread formed the fringe of their tops, and they bells shook over their skin whenever the girls shimmied their shoulders. Their hair was piled atop their heads, and a silky scarf covered their mouths, which were curled into a sly smile. Their manicured hands wove through the air and the golden bangles they wore jingled as they fell down their dainty wrists. Their feet were bare, but moved with expert skill in the dance steps they had grown up watching. Thin golden ankle bracelets rattled bells with every step. Their outfits were all color-coordinated, so each girl was a different color.

Men sat on the tailgate of a wagon stocked with beer barrels and jugs of whiskey. They smoked cigars and hand-rolled cigarettes, which glowed in the low light. A few drunkards lay on the ground, tilting their heads back to get the last drop of liquor from their cups. Little kids were seen peeking out of the wagons, where they were supposed to be asleep.

"Duncan, let's go. We shouldn't be here," Courtney hisses, digging her nails into his arm to try to pull him away. But Duncan pulls her further into the clearing so that the gypsies were starting to take notice of them. Courtney nervously stepped behind him as the gypsies began walking towards them.

"Duncan!" the belly dancers exclaimed in tinkling foreign voices, throwing themselves at Duncan, kissing him on both cheeks before stepping back so others could greet him. The men bumped fists with Duncan or slapped him on the shoulder. Finally, everybody had said hi and so Duncan puts his hand on the back of Courtney's waist and brought her in front of him.

"Hey, guys. This is Courtney. She's the King's daughter," he announces. Courtney stands there awkwardly as all the gypsies just stared at her. She tugged self-consciously on her bangs while the strangers murmured, "Princess… the princess…," among the crowd. After what seemed like forever, a belly dancer stepped up and threw her arms around Courtney's shoulders. Her face flushed a deep crimson red as their chests smashed together.

Suddenly, Courtney was surrounded by jolly, grinning gypsies who were sweaty from all the dancing. They hugged her, kissed her cheeks, and happily cried out in Romanian. Meanwhile, Duncan was rushed over to one of the wagons on the far end of the clearing by an elderly lady (who thankfully wasn't dressed in belly-dancer attire). They spoke in hushed tones and strong hand motions.

One brunette with extremely curly hair took Courtney by the shoulders and led her over to the bonfire. Courtney looked over her shoulder at the girl, who gave her a blinding smile. The gypsy put pressure on her shoulders, so she reluctantly sat down on the blankets littering the ground. The gypsy held up a finger and quickly fired off a sentence in Romanian. Then the gypsy ran off, leaving Courtney alone and confused by the fire.

She wasn't truly alone, since there were belly dancers everywhere Courtney looked. The dancers weren't dancing around the fire anymore, however, and men walked around the clearing handing them large champagne glasses of liquor with thin stems. Courtney feels somebody sit next to her, and she flinches. She turns to see Duncan. One knee was propped up, and the other leg was outstretched. One of his arms were resting on his knee, and his other arm was propping himself up.

"Well you look extremely confused," Duncan teases.

"Why… Where… _What_ are we doing here?" she finally stutters at him. She blinks her eyes several times, since the intense heat from the bonfire was starting to make her face flush.

"The gypsies will help hide you. Trust me on this; they're old friends of mine. We'll live with them for a while, and by the end of the deal, I'll bring you back to the palace for my reward of rescuing your life," Duncan tells her, winking. Courtney rolls her eyes.

"Oh, trust me, if anybody is going to win this bet, it's going to be _me_."

Duncan's eyebrows rose in amusement as he looked at something behind Courtney. "You sure about that?" he asks, choking back a laugh. Courtney turns around to see the smiling gypsy girl holding a bundle of clothes in her arms. The girls gives Courtney the clothes, says something in Romanian, and walks off.

Courtney turns to face Duncan, holding the clothes in her arms and not knowing what to do with them. "What did she say?" she asks.

"She said that those clothes will be your disguise for the rest of the time you're here. You'll be disguised at a gypsy, like them," Duncan explains with a satisfied smirk on his face. Courtney nervously digs through the clothes, an eerie feeling growing from her stomach. She gasps and holds up the skimpy top and the thin skirt.

She looks at Duncan for a moment, then she plops the articles of clothing in her lap. "No. No way am I wearing these _atrocities_. I will not dress like a slut and parade around for all to see," Courtney rants. Duncan immediately puts a finger on her lips.

"Dang, Princess, keep your mouth shut. This is their way of life. You can't just disrespect that," Duncan points out. Courtney pouts and stays silent, realizing he was right. "Or… you could give up and bring me to the palace for my money," he suggests.

"No way!"

"Then I'd get to changing," Duncan teases, "You can go change behind that wagon, where everybody else changes." Courtney huffs, grabs the clothes, and practically stomps behind the tall covered wagon. Once she was sure there was nobody watching her from in the dark woods in front of her, she stripped down. There was no use for a strappy, conservative bra in a strapless top, so she went bra-less. The clingy top acted almost like a bra, however. She felt naked and exposed in the microscopic top that showed her whole stomach.

_This might work,_ Courtney thought, _As long as I keep up the charade longer than Duncan, I can win this._

She steps into the tight, stretchy shorts that squeezed her butt together. Then she wraps the skirt around her, covering up as much of her as the see-though fabric could. Which, unfortunately, only covered up halfway down her thighs. Courtney slipped on the golden bracelets and anklets. Finally, she pulled her hair into a messy bun and hung the thin scarf over her mouth.

_I guess this is the best this slutty outfit can get._

Courtney scooped up her clothes and began walking around the wagon to rejoin the party. But suddenly Duncan sprinted around the side of the wagon, grabbing Courtney by the arms. In her surprise, she dropped all her clothes and they scattered all over the floor. He pulled her into a tent that was propped up next to them. In all his abruptness, Courtney stumbled over her own two feet and falls into his lap.

"What the hell are you doing?!" Courtney screeches, trying to get up from his lap. He pulls her back into his lap, pinning her arms with his strong hands. "You are such a perverted pig! You better not be thinking of any _lewd_ comments about this outfit _you_ made me wear."

"Trust me, darling, that's the furthest thing from my mind," Duncan replies. He smirks and looks down at Courtney's cleavage. "Correction. Not the _furthest_ thing from my mind."

"You're an ass," Courtney hisses. She wriggles in Duncan's grip, but to no avail. He pins her next to his chest.

"Seriously, though. Stay still," he warns.

"And why would I do that?"

"There's a bear outside attacking the camp. Now if you're smart, you won't wiggle the whole tent and draw attention to us," he murmurs in her ear. And for the first time during their argument, she could hear the screams and yelling coming from outside the tent.

**

* * *

**

(Author's Note: OMG!!! Am I, like, a fortune teller or what? During Thursday's TDA episode where Duncan won the million, Courtney finally kissed him again. Which was way cute. But like all of you know, and how I even said in last chapter's A/N, I

_**knew **_**Courtney would fall for Duncan again when he earned that million bucks. Or maybe I just think like Courtney. **

**Anyway, I'm going to use some stereotypical traits in this story. No offense if anybody reading this is a gypsy, or has friends or family who are gypsies. I just think that the fictional depictions of gypsies, in the fact that they were labeled as thieves and fortune tellers, would be much more interesting for my story than the more realistic depiction where they are kind and peace-loving. The song below is Do You Remember by Jay Sean Ft. Sean Paul, aka, the BEST. SONG. EVER. I'm bolding my favorite lyrics, just for fun.)**

**

* * *

**

_**I've been thinking about you,  
And how we used to be then.  
**Back when we didn't have to live,  
We could start again._

There's nothing left to say,  
Don't waste another day.  
**Just you and me tonight,  
Everything will be okay.  
**If it's alright with you,  
Then it's alright with me.  
**Baby, let's take this time,  
Let's make new memories.  
**  
Do you rememberrr?  
Do you rememberrr?  
**Do you rememberrr?  
All of the times we had?  
**Do you rememberrr?  
Do you rememberrr?  
**Do you rememberrr?  
All of the times we had?  
**Let's bring it back!  
Let's bring it back!  
Let's bring it back!  
Let's bring it back!  
Let's bring it back!

**So long since you've been missing,  
It's good to see you again.  
**How you, how you doing?  
And how about we don't let this happen again.

There's nothing left to say,  
Don't waste another day.  
**Do You Remember?  
Just you and me tonight,  
Everything will be okay.  
**If it's alright with you,  
Then it's alright with me.  
**Baby, let's take this time,  
Let's make new memories.  
**  
Do you rememberrr?  
Do you rememberrr?  
**Do you rememberrr?  
All of the times we had?  
**Do you rememberrr?  
Do you rememberrr?  
**Do you rememberrr?  
All of the times we had?  
**Let's bring it back!  
Let's bring it back!  
Let's bring it back!  
Let's bring it back!

Yo, hey, girl, yo bring it back to the time  
When you and me had just begun.  
**When I was still your number one.  
**Well, it might seem far-fetched,  
Babygirl, but it can't be done.  
**I've got this feeling, fire blazing,  
And it's hot just like the sun.  
Know you feel it too, my girl,  
**Just freeze up, may the good vibes run...  
Girl, take a sip of the champange,  
**Take a lil' trip down my lane, my girl.**  
**While you know every night,  
You'll feel alright.  
Look, I tell you dis girl is outta my world.  
**Don't change, Imma now rearrange, my girl.  
Imma tell you, straight, dis outta my world.  
**How many years do you want come kiss dis?  
I know you miss this!  
**That's what I heard, that's what I heard,  
That's what I heard, word, girl.

There's nothing left to say,  
Don't waste another day.  
**Just you and me tonight,  
Everything will be okay.  
**If it's alright with you,  
Then it's alright with me.  
**Baby, let's take this time,  
Let's make new memories.**

Do you rememberrr?  
Do you rememberrr?  
**Do you rememberrr?  
All of the times we had?  
**Do you rememberrr?  
Do you rememberrr?  
**Do you rememberrr?  
All of the times we had?**  
Let's bring it back!  
Let's bring it back!  
Let's bring it back!  
Let's bring it back!  
Let's bring it back!


	6. Wolf Attack

"I never would have imagined myself dying like this," Courtney whispers, half hysterical. "And I _never_ would have imagined myself dying while I was wearing _this_."

"Will you shut up?" Duncan hisses, holding Courtney so close to him that she could feel his muscles in his torso through her back. "I'd like to stay alive, thank you very much." Courtney stretches her arm out to her skirt, but Duncan tugs her hand back. "Is it so hard for you to stay still?"

"I just need to adjust my skirt," Courtney whimpers. Her skirt was riding up dangerously high, and to make it worse, she was sitting in Duncan's lap. But his arms held her still, keeping her immobile. She huffs and sits in her embarrassment. It felt like with every heartbeat that coursed blood through her legs sent her skirt riding up just a little bit more… or she was being paranoid.

An ear-shattering scream pierces the air, and Duncan immediately releases Courtney. "Katia!" Duncan exclaims. Courtney falls onto the floor of the tent from Duncan's enthusiasm, and he dashes out of the tent, all fear gone. She peeks out of the tent to see who was so important to leave the safety of a tent.

Squatting on the top of a covered wagon with a toddler in her arms was a screaming young woman. She had wavy blonde hair about the same length as the smiley brunette from just a while ago. The large wolf rears up and shakes the wagon with it's huge forepaws. It tries to leap up, but it's height was no match for the tall wagon. Courtney sees Duncan grab a short sword that only appeared to be a foot long -- much too dangerous to attack a gray wolf from that short distance.

It was obvious that stabbing a large wolf with such a short weapon wouldn't kill the animal. The wolf would lunge for Duncan, and life as he knew it would be over. As he sneaks towards the wolf and slowly raises the small hand-sword, Courtney shouts out, "Duncan! No!"

The wolf swings it's heavy head towards Courtney's voice and takes a step back from the wagon. She gasps, as she had become the wolf's new target -- a much easier target than all the gypsies in trees and on top of wagons. Courtney dashes out of the tent, which would provide little to no protection from the ferocious beast. The animal was taking it's time advancing on her. Somehow the animal could tell she wouldn't be able to defend herself.

Courtney keeps backing up until he hits the trunk of a tree. The only thing she could hear was her pounding heartbeat, the wolf's ominous growling, and the crying toddler in Katia's arms. Over the wolf's shoulder, Courtney sees a gypsy boy toss a longer sword to Duncan, who catches it one-handed. Suddenly, she hears shouting from above. She glances up to see a few gypsies leaning out of the tree limbs, offering their hands to her. Courtney glances at the wolf, who was only three yards away, and grabs the nearest hand to her.

She's slowly lifted into the air, and her heart beats faster. The wolf was barely five feet away, and Courtney was still close to the ground. The higher she was raised, the more hands gripped her arms, hands, and shoulders. They awkwardly tried to lift her from balanced positions in the tree.

Courtney let out a scream as the wolf lunges for her. She kicks her feet in the air, out of reach of the gnashing jaws and rows of glistening teeth. Duncan advances on the wolf, hands gripping the long sword. The wolf runs towards the tree, pushes off the trunk, and leaps into the air. Courtney screams once more as the hot breath of the animal was panted on her leg as it rips a few bells from her skirt with its sharp teeth. The gypsies shout in rapid Romani, though she couldn't understand them at all.

Finally, she's lifted onto a low tree branch, barely out of reach of the wolf. Duncan leaps, driving the sword into the wolf's side. The animal lets out a devastated howl and it leaps at him. The jagged teeth miss Duncan's neck, but dig into his shoulder. He collapses on the ground with a grimace on his face. Suddenly, the wolf collapses too. It must have lost enough blood to not be able to stand anymore. It pants heavily before letting out a low whine, and stops breathing.

The gypsies leap out of the trees, running up to Duncan. Middle-aged women dash into a tent and appear with beige bandages and jars of cream. A few guys help lift Duncan to him feet, but he waves them off and climbs up the steps into a wooden wagon. The women shut the door behind them, and the gypsies began fixing the damage left behind by the wolf. Crates were toppled over, spilling their contents; the ashes of the fire were scattered across the ground, burning embers still glowing; and clothes were ripped of clothes lines, dragged through the dirt and stained.

Meanwhile, Courtney preoccupies herself by trying to climb out of the tree. She awkwardly wraps her legs around the trunk and clinging to a limb with her hands. She was afraid to just jump to the ground, which seemed extremely far below. Instead, she slowly shimmied down the rough trunk.

When she finally touched the ground, an elderly woman grabbed Courtney's wrist and tugged her towards another wooden wagon. She asks her something in Romanian, but Courtney just says, "I have no idea what you're saying." The woman leads her up the wooden steps and into the wagon.

"I am sorry, yes? You talk English, no?" the lady asks. Courtney nods. "You in pain?"

Courtney assumed the old woman meant to ask if she was injured, so she shakes her head. The inside of the wagon was warm, and dim. The only light came from strings of paper lanterns strung about the ceiling. The floor was covered in a plush, colorful rug that stretched across the whole floor. Fabric and cut-up cloth was piled haphazardly on tall shelves that took up a whole wall. A wide table was stacked with cloth, scissors, pins, balls of thread, and needles stuck into a block of wood. It looked like a seamstress shop, of sorts.

"Hop on top," the lady demands, dragging over a crude wooden stool and pointing to it. Courtney steps on, and the lady opens her frail fist to reveal three golden bells -- the bells that had been ripped from her skirt. The lady begins to sew the bells back onto her skirt. Courtney keeps her jaw clenches, preparing for a needle to prick her thigh from the lady's bony, shaking, arthritic fingers. But none came.

Two teenage girls a few years younger than Courtney walk out of the shadows with a hand-made tape measure with measurements written on a long strip of cloth. The girls get to work on Courtney, wrapping the tape measure around various body parts and jotting down the measurements.

"Is the raid on the palace ready?" one teenager whispers in Spanish to the other teenager. The girl had a pale scar along her cheek that disappeared into her hairline.

"Not quite. Duncan says he still needs to tie up a few loose strings," the other girl replies in Spanish. Courtney had a feeling the two girls were speaking in Spanish so that she and the old woman couldn't understand them. But apparently they didn't know that Courtney could speak Spanish too. She kept her mouth shut, though, since she had a feeling she shouldn't be hearing what they were talking about.

"A few 'loose strings'? What the hell does he mean?" the scarred girl asks.

"I don't know. I guess he's waiting until something is done with the princess."

The first girl scoffs. "She's just holding us back. We could at least use her as a captive to get into the palace before continuing our attack."

Then, the woman declares, "You done." Courtney leaps off the school, thanks her, and speed-walks out of the wagon. The clearing was empty. All the gypsies must be either safe in their tents or a wagon. But there, sitting by a log in front of the fire, was Duncan. His back was to her, shirtless, with a white bandage around his shoulder. He was smoking a hand-rolled cigarette. Muscles flickered in his tan back in sculpted waves as he leaned towards the warm fire, flicking the rest of his cigarette butt into the flames.

She couldn't believe what she heard from those two Mexican gypsies. _Was Duncan really leading an attack on the palace? Her _**home**_? _And Courtney couldn't help to feel a little jealous of that Katia girl. But then again, through his betrayal of the awaiting attack on her home and her jealousy of Katia, she couldn't help to feel thankful that he saved her life. _Why would he even save her life? It would be much easier if he had let her get killed, and then she wouldn't be in the way to stop him from attacking the palace… Unless he just killed the wolf for the safety of the gypsy camp, with no emotion for her at all._

Courtney sits down next to Duncan, not able to take the anticipation of wondering when he was going to attack the palace. But, of course, it would be rude to interrogate him without telling him thanks for saving her life. Duncan watches her as she stares at him, mouth gaping open, not knowing what to say. Finally, she asks, "Are you okay?"

Duncan turns back to the fire and answers, "I was just about to ask you the same thing. You kept staring at me… But yeah, I'm fine."

Courtney blushes, and stares into the flickering orange flames. But her eyes kept turning back to Duncan. _How much was he hiding from her?_ She clears her throat and continues, "That's good. And, um, I just wanted to say thanks for killing that wolf when you did."

"No problem. It's not like I could have let it run around and hurt other people, too," he replies. Courtney's cheeks burned. _Of course he didn't kill the wolf because he cared about you, _she chides herself_, He didn't want the wolf hurting any of his_**gypsy** _friends. _Apparently Courtney took to long to respond to what Duncan said, because he stands up. She couldn't help but notice how the glow of the fire danced across his tan chest, and how the muscles in his back rippled with each movement. "Well… the chief of the tribe says we can sleep in the guest wagon over there. I gotta get to sleep before I collapse. So I'll, uh, see ya tomorrow," he tells her, running a hand through his hair. Duncan turns around and begins walking away, towards a tall wooden wagon with fancy blue carvings on the outside.

"Wait!" Courtney blurts, standing up in a rush, "I know about the attack on the palace!"

Duncan freezes in place, not moving for a moment or two. Courtney's heartbeat slows down from her outburst as she waits for his reacting. Then, slowly, ever so slowly, he turned around. There was no mistaking the suspicion in his teal eyes.

"You know about that?" he murmurs.

**

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(Author's Note: Can anybody give me directions how to set up a poll on my profile? I need to set up a poll about this little series I'm doing. Al Capone and Duncan Malone, Princess Turns Peasant, then the poll will be about the next story I do. I have three ideas for people to vote on. Thanks!)


	7. By the Bonfire

"Of course I know about the whole _attack _you're planning on my home. Why did you think you could hide this from me?" Courtney demands. Duncan walks back to the fire and pulls Courtney down onto a log laying next to the fire. They sat next to each other and Duncan put his elbows on his knees.

"Listen…," he begins, "It's not what you think. The gypsies here hate the palace. They hate everything it stands for, like, the government and all. The government in Romania and Spain kicked them out, and they've kept the grudge through all their traveling."

"But our government is so much different than the government in Romania and Spain!"

"Not quite. Gypsies are still the lowest people in society. And it's not like you can blame them for not liking any people in power, since they have the power to kick them out of their homes," Duncan explains.

"So you're just going to help them attack my _home_?!"

Duncan puts his hands firmly on her shoulders, shaking her slightly. "Listen… Just listen to me, darling. I'm not helping them attack the palace. Sure, I told them they should stand up for what they believe in, but they somehow got the idea I was telling them to attack the palace. So now they all think I'm their leader," he sighs. His hands slip back into his lap.

"Then just tell them it's all a big misunderstanding," Courtney insists. She was watching Duncan, who was staring intently into the burning fire. His eyes flickered with the flames reflected in them, molten orange fire blending with his cool aqua-colored irises. Shadows danced across his sharp jaw line. Suddenly, he turns to look back at her, and she was snapped out of her daydreaming.

"But… I can't. They're practically my family. I know they'd think I was a traitor if I went back on my word. And they'd think it was all because of you," he pleads.

Courtney's stomach pangs. Just then, Duncan looked like a little boy. The confusion, the indecision, the innocence was all displayed in his eyes. He truly didn't want to backstab his "family," and he sure didn't want to risk his family's lives by attacking the palace as planned. She reaches over and takes one of his hands in both of hers.

"I'm sorry," she whispers. Duncan stares at his hand in hers. He slightly shrugs, and his eyes lock on to the goosebumps sprouted up on Courtney's arms and legs in her skimpy outfit.

"Cold?" he murmurs, "It can get pretty cold at night in the woods." Without waiting for her answer, he takes his soft wool vest from the log next to him and hands it to her. Courtney takes the vest and slips it over her shoulders. It hung loosely around her stomach, keeping the warmth in. The only negative side was that there were no sleeves, so her arms were still cold. Her legs had goosebumps too.

Duncan takes his hand out of hers and drapes his arm around her shoulders, pulling her to him. Warmth radiated off him in waves, shrinking her goosebumps down to nothing. With the flickering fire, the hooting owls, the chirping crickets, and her cheek nuzzled against Duncan's bare chest, Courtney accidentally falls asleep.

Duncan sits staring at the fire and thinking about all the things going on for a while after Courtney falls asleep. Even though she was perfectly still besides her hushed breathing, he still appreciated her company. He thought about a lot of things, but mainly about the raid on the palace and how Courtney had figured it out. _She must have heard some people taking. But who? And I thought she didn't speak Romanian…_

Suddenly, a wolf howls in the distance, snapping Duncan out of his deep thoughts. The wolf attack was a surprise, since nobody had expected it. When Duncan had seen the flash of dark fur, he had at first thought it was a bear, since bear attacks were much more common. But it had turned out to be a wolf… Which was strange, because wolves usually avoided as much contact with people as possible.

Either way, Duncan had spaced on how dangerous it could be at night. He scoops Courtney up in his arms and walks towards the wagon the gypsies had practically given him to live in for the time he was in the camp. He shoves the door open with his hip, accidentally jostling Courtney. She omits a gentle sigh, but other than that, stays asleep.

He sets her down on the small cot on one side of the cabin in the wagon. He lifts the bed sheets and covers her with them. Duncan hesitates for a second before leaning down and softly kisses her on the forehead.

As he climbs into his own cot on the other side of the small living space, he thinks, _That was just a friendly kiss. Nothing more. _

But as Duncan fell asleep, a small part of him couldn't help but doubt himself.

**

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(Author's Note: Cute. But short. I had to think of a way for them to start flirting in some way, otherwise this story would be EXTREMELY boring, so sorry if any of it seemed a bit cheesy or weird. Anyway, I took a few lyrics from the song Smile by Uncle Kracker, because I thought they were cute.)

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**

_"You make me smile like the sun, fall out of bed,_

_Sing like a bird, dizzy in my head._

_Spin like a record, crazy on a Sunday night._

_You make me dance like a fool, forget how to breathe,_

_Shine like gold, buzz like a bee._

_Just the thought of you can drive me wild._

_Oh, you make me smile._

_Don't know how I lived without you,_

_'Cause every time I get around you,_

_I see the best of me inside your eyes._

_You make me smile."_


	8. Belly Dancing Lessons

The next morning, Courtney wakes up in a panic. She was wrapped up in a thick quilt of various tacky colors and laying in a lumpy wool mattress stuffed with feathers. She stands up and immediately trips, since the rough fabric had caught on her legs. Her elbows slam into the hard wooden floor, and she winces.

Courtney kicks her legs, untangling herself from the too-hot blankets. She looks at her elbows, which were scraped and had a small sliver in one from the rough wood. "Dang," she hisses and her sharp nails efficiently pluck the sliver from her skin.

"You okay, Princess?" Duncan asks, walking through the wagon door and seeing her on the ground. She stands up, dusts herself up, and lifts her chin.

"Of course I'm okay," she insists.

"Well pardon me for caring. Katia is waiting outside for your belly-dancing lessons," Duncan tells her with a smirk.

"Wait… my _what_?!"

"Your belly-dancing lessons. If you're going to be disguised as a gypsy, you're going to have to know how to belly-dance."

"No. No, no, no, _no_. I'm not going to learn that repulsive dance," Courtney protests.

"Then I might as well bring you back to the palace and claim my reward…"

"Fine!" she shrieks, slipping past Duncan. "But only so I can prove to you I can _handle _being a peasant." She opens the door and stomps down the wooden stairs. Katia, her apparent belly-dancing teacher, was waiting out in the clearing just like Duncan said. Katia was even prettier up close. Her gleaming blonde hair hung in waves nearly down to her bellybutton. Her skin looked tanner than it actually was in her sky blue outfit like Courtney's red one.

"You ready for me to teach you how to belly-dance, Court? It's so easy! I just know you'll _love _it!" Katie chirps in her high voice. Her bright blue eyes sparkled with excitement.

"Uhh… sure," Courtney replies doubtfully. She didn't really like people calling her 'Court.'

"Alright, very first thing, you gotta stretch. It's important to do that so you don't stretch a muscle while dancing. Ohmygosh, that would be sooo embarrassing!" Somehow, the bubbly blonde didn't look like Duncan's 'type'… if only Courtney knew what his 'type' was. "Anyway, do you know how to do the splits?"

"Yup." Courtney has always had been overly-flexible as a child. She loved doing cartwheels, handstands, and the splits in various places around the palace. Her father had even joked about her becoming a contortionist, but that was back when he actually had _time _to play with her.

"Great! Then we're already a step ahead. Alright, so do the splits…," Katia instructs. She and Courtney slide down until their butts hit the dirt. Their skirts ride up, pinching against their thighs as their legs are stretched out. "… And reach down to touch your toes." Courtney reaches down to touch her toes, and she barely makes it. Katia, on the other hand, had her body nearly bent in half; her chin was resting on her knee and her hands her gripping the soles of her feet.

"How long will it take for me to get that flexible?" Courtney asks. She was partially jealous of Katia's flexibility, and that was making Courtney long for her younger, leaner body. But those days were long gone, and she'd just have to work with what she has.

"Oh, not that long, if you stretch everyday. A week, at max. Okay, now do the box splits," Katia commands. The two girls swing their legs around so they were still doing the splits, but their legs were on both sides of them instead of in front and behind of them. They stretch and go touch the toes of their right foot.

"Hey," Katia whispers to Courtney, "Look at all those guys staring at us!" She lets out a giggle that sounded like it belonged to a preteen, not a girl who was Courtney's age. "They always stare when we stretch."

"Who stares?" Courtney asks, following Katia's gaze to a cluster of men gathered around a cart, which was stocked with various types of liquor. Each of them was sipping from a foaming cup or a leathery flask, and staring hungrily at the two teens' bodies. "Oh. _Perverts_."

Katia just shrugs.

Courtney turns back to stretching, and sees Katia offer a flirty wave to one of the guys. She peeks over her shoulder to see who her belly-dancing tutor was flirting with, and she sees Duncan standing amongst a small group of friends. Courtney's heart freezes with embarrassment of him watching her stretch, and the embarrassment of seeing Katia flirt with Duncan. She immediately stands up. "Uh… Katia… I think I'm all stretched-out. Can we just start the lesson so it can be over with?"

Katia sighs and stands up. "Fine. You know how to shimmy, right?" she asks.

"Uh… shimmy?"

"_Please_ tell me you know what shimmying is," Katia says exasperatedly. "That's, like, the simplest belly-dancing move you can possibly know how to do!"

Courtney shrugs, but on the inside she was feeling frustrated. It wasn't often she didn't know how to do something, but Katia giving her crap about it was worse. And… Courtney was feeling slightly embarrassed about receiving belly-dancing lessons in front of that group of perverted guys.

"Okay, you can either shimmy your hips, or shimmy your shoulders. First thing we're going to learn is how to shimmy your hips. All you have to do is keep one leg straight and one leg bent a little bit. Then switch legs so the bent leg is straight and the straight leg is bent at the knee," Katia instructs. She slowly straightens and bends her legs back and forth, which caused her hips to sway back and forth in turn. "See? Now you try."

Courtney bends her knees one leg at a time, back and forth, back and forth. Her hip goes down when her knee bends, and her hip goes up when her leg straightens. "Like that?"

"Almost. Your movements are a bit jerky, so take your time and smooth it out. Now slowly speed it up so your hips are swinging faster," Katia explains, shimmying along next to Courtney.

A few guys whistle at them and shout something, but Courtney doesn't bother to look back to see if Duncan was one of them who was flirting.

"Good. Okay, now we'll work on shoulder shimmying. Just bring one shoulder back, and one shoulder forward. Then switch shoulders by bringing the shoulder in back forwards and the shoulder in front backwards," Katia clarifies. She slowly demonstrates, and Courtney repeats what she did.

"Like with the hip shimmying, speed it up so your shoulders shimmy faster," Katia tells her. Courtney shimmies faster, but quickly stops when she feels her top slipping down. She lifts her top to keep it in place. "Keep going!"

"No!" Courtney exclaims, "Otherwise my top will completely slip off."

"Then you need a tighter top."

"Again, no. This top is already tight. And the tighter top combined with this stupid push-up bra all the belly-dancers are supposed to wear… it'll end in disaster," Courtney warns.

"A tighter top will keep it from slipping, though it _will_ enhance your… _assets_ a bit more," Katia says, smirking. Her smirk reminded Courtney of Duncan, and she inwardly groaned. What would he think of her in a tighter top? _Hopefully nothing repulsive_, she thinks.

"Anyway, start shimmying again," Katia continues shimmying and Courtney reluctantly follows suit. Luckily, her top stayed in place. "Now rock your torso forwards and backwards and _keep shimmying_." Katia leans her body forward, then rocks backwards, shimmying the entire time. Courtney's cheeks flush with embarrassment as she copies the dance move.

"Hey! Turn around!" a man slurs from behind them. Katia beams and turns around, shimmying for the testosterone-enhanced crowd. Courtney halts to a stop as her tutor leaves her to go flirt.

Courtney dashes for the seamstress wagon, desperate to get away from that torture. But somebody grabs her arm and spins her around.

"Hey, where are you going?" Duncan asks.

"I… uh… well… Katia told me to get something from the seamstress, so I was going to, um, do that," Courtney stutters. Over Duncan's shoulder, she could see Katia shimmying in front of a guy who looked about ready to drool right into her cleavage. _Slut_, Courtney thinks.

"Well, some girls are going to town for stuff and you should probably go along, since… you know…," Duncan tells her.

"Um, sure."

"Meet me by the bonfire when you're ready to go."

Courtney nods and practically runs to the seamstress wagon. All she wanted to do was go to sleep and forget about her stupid belly-dancing lessons. That, or run away and live on her own. Either one would work if only she never had to be embarrassed ever again. She walks into the seamstress shop and almost immediately the old lady is holding out a tight red top for her.

"How'd you know I would need a tighter top?" Courtney asks, stepping behind a navy curtain to change. She takes off her top and begins trying to wrestle herself into the tighter top.

"I always make different versions of tops for the belly-dancers. They're always wanting tighter or looser shirts depending on what kind of dance they're performing. I just variate your measurements a bit, and it's done," the seamstress explains.

"Well, thanks," Courtney tells her before leaving the wagon. True, her cleavage was spilling out of her top, but if it would keep the top _on _her body, it was worth it… in a way.

Duncan was standing by the bonfire, just like he promised. A troop of middle-aged women in baggy handmade dresses load dozens of empty clay jugs into the back of a cart. Then they begin climbing into the back, seated around the towering pots and jugs. Duncan climbs into the back of the cart and reaches back to grab Courtney's hands and help her in. They sit on a thin layer of hay covering the wooden floor of the cart, with their backs against a stack of jugs.

"Here, Hun, you may wanna cover up those cute little freckles of yours with this dirt so nobody will assume you're Princess Courtney," an redhead next to Courtney tells her. "Here… there's always dirt underneath this hay." The lady digs under the hay and comes up with a small handful. She holds out the dirt to Courtney, who reluctantly takes it.

"Um, Duncan, could you cover my freckles up with the dirt? I don't have a mirror with me and I have no idea where all my freckles are…," Courtney asks.

"Sure," he replies, and she pours the soft tan dirt into his hand. She immediately closes her eyes so no dirt would get into her eyes, and Duncan sticks a trembling finger into the dirt. He brings his finger up to her warm cheeks and gently smears the dirt across her skin. His finger glides across her cheeks, over the slope of her nose, and across her other cheek.

Courtney shivers at the touch of Duncan's fingers on her face. And once he was completely done covering up her freckles, her eyelids flash open. Duncan's face was right in front of hers, and she could see a faint blush on his cheeks. "Thanks," she murmurs.

"No problem," Duncan mumbles back. They turn their gazes away from each other and awkwardly sit there for the rest of the ride into town.

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(Author's Note: Thanks to edwardandbella4evah for the dirt-and-freckles idea! If you have any ideas for this story, please send them in a review or a PM and I WILL give you credit! Also, if you haven't voted in the poll on my profile, go do that! It's for the new theme of the next story I'm going to write. I added a new choice in the poll with Duncan as a pirate and Courtney as his captive. But for those of you who already HAVE voted in the poll, sorry, it won't allow you to vote again. Which is crap. So don't worry, once everybody's done voting on this poll, I'm going to make another poll with the same choices. I kinda messed up this poll by adding more and more choices, so I'm sorry for that. There will be sorta like a tie-breaker poll at the very end so it'll be fair. But during the tie-breaker poll, I'm adding another option too: DxC during World War 2, in a Nazi concentration camp.)


	9. The Well

The cart rumbles into town, and Courtney can't help but pulling her silky scarf around her neck and over her nose, blocking the lower half of her face. "Why did we even come here? It's too dangerous! Let's go back," she begs Duncan, who was already hopping out of the cart.

"No way, darling. Leaving now would just arouse suspicion. Just act normal," he replies, handing her a huge empty jar. She waddles along, carrying the bulky jar and trying to keep up with the parade of women walking toward the well. They were already far ahead of her, and she was persistently falling behind.

"Just a hint, but I think you're supposed to carry the jug on your _head_," Duncan teases. She hefts the heavy jug on her head, and holds it there to keep its balance. She walks a bit faster and eventually catches up with the rest of the gypsies. Courtney can't help but notice the obnoxious looks the other peasants had on their face when looking at the line of gypsies. A few people even spit on the ground at the gypsies' feet. _I guess gypsies really _**are **_social outcasts_, she thinks. She looks over her shoulder, but Duncan had already disappeared.

At the well, a gypsy woman tosses down a wooden bucket until a splash is heard at the bottom. She pulls up the bucket and pours it into the jug, until it was filled to the brim. Then she lifts the jug onto her head and walks off. One by one, the women filled their jugs until only Courtney was left.

She tosses the bucket to the bottom of the well and hears the distant splash sound. Courtney leans over and tugs the rope. After dozens of hefting tugs, the bucket if lifted from the well. She tilts the bucket and manages to pour a little over half the water into the jug. The other half of the water sloshes out into the dirt, turning the ground around her into sticky mud. After another try, more water is spilled, but the jug is filled the rest of the way.

Courtney lifts the jug onto her head, arms shaking with the effort of lifting the heavy weight, and turns around to walk back to the cart. But she almost runs into a small group of three men who were watching her with a mix of lust and hatred in their eyes. "Oh… I'm sorry," she excuses herself and slips past them without spilling any more water.

"You better be sorry, _gypsy_," a man in a tan vest hisses at her. He'd said 'gypsy' like another would say 'leprosy.'

Something about his tone made Courtney's insides boil. "I know. I _said_ I was sorry," she clarifies.

"I heard you," he slurs. Then Courtney notices the small bar across the street from the well. The man was drunk, and so were his two friends. Over the drunkard's shoulder, Courtney could see no gypsies left to defend her. They were already back at the cart, waiting for her delayed return. "But I know how you can pay me for our accidental run-in."

His big, burly hand grabs her roughly by the wrist, and tugs her towards her. She looses her balance and the clay jug falls off her head, shattering on the ground and spilling water everywhere. "Hey!" Courtney exclaims.

"You clumsy little bitch. I'll show you…," he growls right in her face. His breathe blew across her face, smelling like liquor, and a rugged five-o'clock shadow grew on his face. Her breath catches in her throat, suddenly afraid of what would happen.

One of the men grabs her butt, and she pulls away from him -- right into the other man. He rips the scarf from her face and tosses it on the ground, right into the mud. The man who still had her by her wrist held his other hand out, reaching for her skirt. "No! Stop!" Courtney shouts, but it comes out more like a squeak. She clears her throat and begins screaming, "Help! Somebody help me!"

But nobody was even around the well anymore. It seemed like at the first sign of danger or drama, everyone had fled. And no gypsies were left to stick up for her. _Fine, _she thinks_, If that's how it's going to be… I'll just have to take matters into my own hands._

Courtney lashes out, clawing at the man's hand until he finally released her wrist. Deep red gashes ran jagged down his arm, and he shouts in pain. The other two men jump for Courtney, one of them holding each of her arms. She kicks at them, nailing one in the groin and the other in the stomach. They crouch on the ground, moaning and holding themselves together. The man with the five-o'clock shadow glares at Courtney, but suddenly, he's tackled to the ground.

Courtney gasps when she sees Duncan on top of the man, punching him repeatedly in the stomach. "Duncan, stop! Let's just go back!" she tries telling him, but Duncan just brushes her off and keeps whaling on the drunk man. She looks around and sees that the drunkard's two acquaintances had already run off.

The man flips Duncan off of him, and they both stand up. The man grabs Duncan's vest in his fist and lands a blow across Duncan's jaw. "Stop! Get off him!" Courtney shouts. She slams her fists into the man's back, but he just swings his arm out, knocking her right in the stomach and onto the ground.

She curls up in a ball, struggling to catch the breath that had been knocked out of her. Soon Duncan's hands are on her, picking her up into his arms and carrying her back to the cart, bridal-style. He climbs into the cart and just tells the driver, "Get going."

Soon the cart begins rambling back towards the gypsy camp, and Duncan cups Courtney's chin in his hand, lifting her gaze to his eyes. "Are you okay?" he asks her, "Did they hurt you?"

Immediately, she begins crying. Sobbing, actually. She just cries and cries and cries. Cries because she misses the comfort of her room and her pet cat, cries because she was sick of pretending to be a belly-dancer, cries because of what those men could have done, and cries just so she can cry. And the whole time, Duncan just rocks her in his arms, strokes her hair, and quietly explains the whole ordeal to the gypsies.

* * *

When Courtney wakes up, she was back in her bed. She stands up and her vision is immediately clouded with lightheadedness. Once the spots fade away, she walks to the door in a haze of post-crying headache. She opens the door and the first thing she hears is yelling. But nobody was in the courtyard, so she sneaks along the side of the wagon until she hears Duncan's voice.

"They just _left _her at the well! In the _center_ of town!"

"Nothing happened to her, Duncan," says a mysterious voice reassuringly.

"I _told _you those guys were drunk! What do you think would have happened to her if I hadn't been there?"

"But you _were_ there. And she's fine right now. Isn't that all what matters?"

"No!" Duncan snaps. There's a silence, and Courtney hears somebody pacing back and forth… most likely Duncan. "Besides, they could have found out she was the princess."

"What, three drunk guys? They couldn't make the connection."

"Not them! Somebody else. Everybody in the kingdom knows what the royal family looks like. If she was with the gypsies, instead of all alone, there would have been less of a chance of her being recognized."

"She _wasn't _recognized. That's all that matters. But if it satisfies you, I'll talk to the others and tell them what you think," the voice replies.

"That is not. All. That. Matters," Duncan hisses. "What if she was hurt?"

Silence.

Then, "You know what, Duncan? I'm starting to think you care about this girl way too much than you should."

"I don't want to hear it," Duncan snaps. "We'll talk about this later."

There's the sound of Duncan's footsteps as he walks away. Courtney's curiosity gets the better of her and she decides to see who the man was that Duncan was talking to. She peeks out from behind the wagon to see a middle-aged man wrapped in layers of colorful gypsy clothes and baggy white pants tied onto his wiry body with coarse rope.

But then somebody crashes into her, blocking her view of the man and making her stumble backwards. "Princess!" Duncan exclaims, grabbing her arms to keep her from falling. "What are you doing here?"

"I just woke up and wanted to go for a walk. I have a terrible headache and thought fresh air should clear it up," she lies off the top of her head.

"Oh. Good. Well, not good that you have a headache, but good that you were going for a walk. I need to show you something," Duncan replies, taking her hand and leading her into the forest. They follow a bumpy, weed-infested dirt trail to wherever Duncan was leading her.

But all Courtney could focus on was the mysterious man's words: _'You know what, Duncan? I'm starting to think you care about this girl way too much than you should.'_

**

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**(Author's Note: Happy New Year's, everybody! I resolve to try to update chapters faster. Lol. Seriously though, I'm so excited about the next chapter. It's going to be so cute! So… yeah. Happy New Year's! The song is Kiss My Sass by Cobra Starship.)**

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_They say that kid he's got…_

I'm bringing sassy back,  
And everything that you thought you can't forget  
'cause y'all know nothing but my name.  
And I don't wanna hear  
about people I don't know.  
Not you, not him, not her, no.

You only see what I let you see,  
Nothing less, nothing more.  
What you say is nothing new to me.  
Honestly.

They say that kid he's got soul.  
I'm everywhere that you go.  
And I've been there, seen that, and I ain't taking you home.  
No-o-o.

Oh. Oh oh oh oh. Oh oh oh oh oh. Oh oh oh oh oh o-oh.  
Oh. Oh oh oh oh. Oh oh oh oh oh. O-oh. O-oh. O-oh. O-oh.

And I ain't gonna lie,  
I can be a nasty guy.  
So you should probably sit  
'cause yeah my words come kinda quick  
and if you don't get it let me repeat it, just forget what you thought.

Only see what I let you see  
over and over again.  
What you say is nothing new to me.  
Honestly.

They say that kid he's got soul.  
I'm everywhere that you go.  
And I've been there, seen that, and I ain't taking you home.  
No-o-o.  
But what do they know?  
I'm everywhere that you go (and I still got soul.)  
And I've been there, seen that, and I ain't taking you home.  
No-o-o.

Oh. Oh oh oh oh. Oh oh oh oh oh. Oh oh oh oh oh o-oh.  
Oh. Oh oh oh oh. Oh oh oh oh oh. O-oh. O-oh. O-oh. O-oh.

(Yeah, yeah. Travis. Here we go!)

They say that kid he's got more soul than Flight Club.  
Can't you tell by the way I use my wall?  
Travis stay way cooler than the hand that lose that.  
Yeah bite too many times worse than my bark.  
Yeah, took a little time but I'm finally here.  
Ten years deep just to make things clear.  
Now I'm doubled up throwing double B's in the air.  
Go get it off your chest like a tight brassiere.  
Don't regret it.  
Just let it.  
Give credit.  
Don't sweat it.

You can try but you just can't stop,  
Fangs up.  
Cobra style.

Honestly…

They say that kid he's got soul.  
I'm everywhere that you go.  
And I've been there, seen that, and I ain't taking you home.  
No-o-o.  
But what do they know?  
I'm everywhere that you go (and I still got soul.)  
And I've been there, seen that, and I ain't taking you home.  
No-o-o.

I'm everywhere that you go.  
And I've been there, seen that and I ain't taking you home


	10. Duncan's Secret Barn

Duncan leads Courtney into a clearing with lush, knee-high grass growing around an abandoned barn. The wooden walls used to be painted a bright red color, but now the paint was chipping off and the wood was starting to rot. The tin roof was stained with flaking rust. Duncan walked over to the door and grabbed the rusty handle, pulling the door open, though it got stuck on rocks and clumps of weeds several times. When he let go of the handle, he brushed off the little chips of rust that had stuck to his hands on his pants.

"It might not be much, but I've always loved coming here when I just needed a little privacy," he tells her, walking into the half-collapsed building. Courtney follows closely behind in the darkness. Haybales were stacked in piles here and there, wafting a fragrant scent of dried grass into the damp air. Mysterious black stains were permanently stuck to the floorboards, probably ancient horse feces. Cobwebs hung from the ceiling and rusty farm equipment sat against the wall.

"Up here," he tells her, beginning to climb up a wooden ladder that looks relatively new compared to the other wood around the barn, which was starting to rot. She climbs up the ladder through a square opening to the second floor of the barn, which was barely a whole floor. The tin roof had collapsed, blocking half of the rest of the second floor, but revealing a bright orange sky full of the sunset. A few birds fly away from their nests in the rafters and through the hole in the roof.

"Wow… it's beautiful," Courtney breathes, letting it all soak in. The pink-orange tint to the sky, the fluffy white clouds stained from the sun, the navy blue sky rising in the opposite direction, the warm smell of golden straw, everything. Duncan takes her hand and slowly leads her across the room. They duck under the rafters and climb over collapsed support beams until they get to the tin roof that ran in a slope from the hay-covered floor to the colorful sky.

"Trust me, it gets even more beautiful the closer we get," he promises. He climbs up the rusty tin roof with Courtney right behind him. They get to the edge of the top of the tin slope to the flat part of the roof that hadn't collapsed yet. Courtney wobbles, looking down at the far distance to the ground, and sits down next to Duncan. She follows his gaze and looks at the setting sun, and the sight practically takes her breath away.

The forest stretched in rolling green hills up to a vast mountain range. The sun was hovering half-behind a range of purple, snow-capped mountains. The white cumulus clouds hovered above the horizon, a jumble of orange, amethyst, and gold colors from the setting sun.

"It's gorgeous," Courtney gasps.

"I know," Duncan replies. She feels his gaze on her in her peripheral vision, and she turns to face him. He whips his eyes back to the sunset and innocently scratches his thumb.

"So, uh, how'd you find this place?"

"Just a walk through the woods. Sometimes, those gypsies…," he drifts off, shaking his head and chuckling softly to himself. Courtney cocks her head at an angle and lifts an eyebrow.

"What about the gypsies?"

"Aw, nothing. It's just that they can get a little, I don't know, too energetic sometimes." Courtney accidentally lets out a giggle at his statement and she slaps her hand over her mouth. "You know what I mean?" Duncan asks.

"_Exactly_ what you mean. Like, Katia especially. She's extremely perky," she tells him. Just saying Katia's name brought back a huge rush of feelings back. _Did Katia like Duncan?,_ she can't help but wondering. _And… does Duncan like her back? _She lets out a sigh and studies the rusty metal roof.

"You okay? You sound upset," Duncan comments.

She takes a deep breath and blurts, "I think Katia likes you." Courtney shyly picked a flaking chip of rust with her fingernail, waiting for his response. Once she hears his loud, hearty laugh, though, she whips her head up. "What's so funny?" she demands, embarrassment burning her cheeks.

"_You_… think I like… _Katia_?" Duncan asks through gasps of air. He wipes the tears from his eyes that had collected from all the laughing.

"Yeah, that's what I said," Courtney snaps, "Now what's so funny about it? After all, she was flirting with you during my belly-dancing lessons." She can't help but cringe thinking of the unfortunate lesson.

"Me? No way. She was flirting with my friend, Thomas. He was standing right next to me while she was teaching you how dance like you do. But you haven't met him yet… You really should, though. He's a great guy," Duncan rambles.

"But you left me _alone_, might I mention, during the wolf attack to go save Katia. You must like her back," Courtney insists. But once the words were out of her mouth, she couldn't help but hear how selfish they sounded. She blushes again and looks at the setting sun, which only a sliver was left of.

Duncan nudges her shoulder with his arm and smirks at her. "Princess! Is that _jealously_ in your voice I detect?" he asks jokingly.

Courtney slaps his arm. "Of course not!" she exclaims, but couldn't think up an excuse. Duncan just looks at her, still smirking. He raises an eyebrow disbelievingly and Courtney blurts, "Well I'm _not_!"

"Sure you're not, sweetheart." Duncan turns back to the sunset, and so does Courtney. But she turns back to him and studies his profile in the fading daylight. A dark bruise had turned the area around the left side of his jaw a painful blue-violet color. She reaches up and gently runs her thumb over the swollen bruise.

"Is that from the fight from those guys at the well?" she murmurs, afraid to break the silence.

Duncan's fingers trace the outline of the bruise, as if he were trying to remember where it came from. Finally, he softly answered, "Yeah." He turned back to face her just as the last rays of sunlight filtered over the mountains. His eyes flashed in the reflection of the poor light. "But I don't want to talk about that."

Courtney slightly parted her lips to say something else, but Duncan had already leaned in. Without giving her a warning, he pressed his lips against hers softly but firmly. Just as she registered the fact he was kissing her, he suddenly pulls away.

"Sorry. I just… really wanted to do that," he explains, running his hands through his hair and standing up. "Come on, we should go inside. It's getting dark out."

Courtney, shell-shocked, just stares up at him from her place on the roof. She still could hardly believe he had just kissed her, yet the proof was there: her lips her tingling like crazy and her heart was beating to a rhythm of its own. She stands up, legs a bit wobbly. Duncan leads her back into the second floor of the barn.

He sits down in a pile of golden straw and Courtney falls into the straw next to him. "I don't think we should try to walk back at this time of night. The nocturnal animals are probably already awake," he calmly comments. Courtney is shocked how Duncan is acting so normally, especially after he just kissed her.

"So are we… staying here? For the whole night?" she whispers, not trusting her voice to talk any louder than that without cracking.

"Looks like it." Duncan leans forward and brushes straw off the floor, making the dirt-covered floorboards appear. "I've been meaning to teach you Romanian, since you might be here for a while. Or at least just a few words. Is that okay?"

"Sure," Courtney says, but her throat just omits an embarrassing squeak. She clears her throat and tries again, "Sure."

Duncan smirks and begins drawing symbols in the dirt with his finger. "Alright, then. We'll start with the alphabet." Courtney leans forward to watch him write the letters, which just looked like a random jumble of doodles. Duncan purses his lips and looks through the gaping hole in the roof. "Damn. I didn't think it was this late already."

He stands up and walks to a corner of the room, reaching a hand deep into a pile of straw. He comes back with a handful of small candles, which he started lining up on the rafters barely above them. "Wow, you must have spent a lot of time here," Courtney comments. She was starting to regain her bearings, but every few seconds she'd have to reach up and feel her lips.

"Yeah, I have," Duncan mumbles through his lips. He was holding several matches he had dug out of his pocket in his lips, while his hands were busy lighting the burnt wicks. Whenever a candle had burned too close to his fingers, he'd toss them in a small puddle a few yards away.

"What if the straw catches on fire?" Courtney suddenly asks, concerned.

"You worry too much, Princess," Duncan replies with a chuckle. After the last candle was lit, he sits next to Courtney again and continues, "Besides, there's no straw on the rafters."

Courtney just shrugs and studies the Romanian alphabet. It was quite similar to the English alphabet, except the letters had small squiggles, curly-cues, or dashes through them in random places. "So… how are you expecting me to learn all this in one night?" she asks.

"You look like a smart girl."

"Um… thanks."

They stare at the alphabet for a minute, waiting for the other person to say something. Eventually, Duncan just begins listing the pronunciations of the letters. Courtney was baffled at how different a foreign language could be from her own (she had learned Spanish from her nanny growing up, so it was already like a second language to her). She knew that there were over 500 different languages in the world, and if every language had a completely different alphabet…? It was beyond confusing.

"Now list them back to me," Duncan commands.

"Wait… what? List the letters?" she asks. Duncan nods and Courtney just stares at the alphabet in front of her. "Um… a is ah, ă is uh, â is eh… and that's all I remember."

Duncan nods, and for the next fifteen minutes he leads her through the entire alphabet. The next time around, Courtney rambles through the whole alphabet until she gets to w. "Um… double v?" she questions.

"Close," Duncan coaxes, "It's dublu ve."

"Dublu ve," Courtney repeats, then rattles off x, y, and z.

"Great!" he exclaims. He reaches out and wipes his hand through the dirt, erasing the alphabet he had written. "Now you write the letters. In order."

"I can't!" she exclaims.

"That's what you said about learning the pronunciations, and you did. Now try this. Come on, it's not that hard if you know how to say them. You already know the order they're in," Duncan points out.

"Fine," Courtney mumbles. She struggles through half of the alphabet, and ten minutes later, she gets to ș which sounds like sh. She hovers her finger right above the dirt and tries to picture the letter in her head. Then she draws an s with a comma-looking shape above it.

Duncan reaches over her arm and wipes the comma away with his thumb. "Almost," he instructs, "But the comma goes like this." He puts his hand over hers and brings her finger below the s. He gently presses down on her hand so her finger draws a comma. "There. Like that."

Courtney smiles and looks up at Duncan. The tiny flames from all the candles were reflected in his eyes. "You're a good teacher," she whispers. A slow grin creeps across Duncan's face and she reaches her hand up to his jaw. She pulls his face towards hers and kisses him. Duncan tenderly squeezes her hand as he pulls apart.

"And you're a good student," he teases with a smirk. His hand cradles the back of her head as he pulls her towards him for another kiss.

After a few solid minutes of kissing, Courtney finally puts a hand on Duncan's chest and softly pushes him away. She lifts her hand to her mouth as she tries to smother a yawn. "Sorry," she murmurs when the yawn finally leaves.

"Too tired?" he asks, rubbing his palm up and down her back.

_Too tired for what? For kissing, or learning the alphabet? _She was probably too tired for learning any more Romanian, but she could definitely stay awake to kiss him longer. So instead of making any assumptions, Courtney just shrugs.

Duncan stands up and Courtney shivers with the sudden lack of his body heat. The cool night air has definitely arrived. He blows out the candles one by one, and the smoky acrid smell floats in the air. Courtney's eyes widen in the darkness, struggling to see in the pitch black. Unfortunately, there was no moon in the sky and the small pin-point stars cast little to no light.

Suddenly, she feels Duncan's presence next to her. He slides his arm around her waist and tugs her under a deep stack of straw. She curls up next to him and he whispers, "Goodnight, Princess."

"Night, Duncan." She falls asleep so quickly after that, so she couldn't tell whether he had kissed her goodnight on her forehead or if that was a dream… a really, really good dream.

**

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(Author's Note: Aww. I loved this chapter. Sorry it took me so long, though. We had, like, four snow days in a row and I was busy sledding. Haha. But the next chapter, I promise, will be in Duncan's POV. I think it's about time to see what he really thinks of her *wink, wink* Lol.)


	11. Royal Guards

Duncan wakes up the next morning with sunlight streaming through the straw above his head. His eyes slowly open and he groans from being waken up much to early. His arm reaches out and knocks some more straw over the gaps, sealing off any source of light coming into their little straw cave. Fuzzy dark spots swim in his eyes from the darkness, and his eyes quickly adjust.

He looks down at Courtney, who was still sleeping beside him. Her warm body was pressed to his side, and one hand was loosely holding the collar of his vest. Her other hand was limply laying next to her, bits of straw tangled in her fingers. One of her legs was resting across Duncan's thigh, and her head was propped up on his shoulder. Courtney's mouth was right by his neck, and every five seconds or so, her hot breath would blow across his skin. His arm was around her shoulders.

Duncan closes his eyes and buries his face in her hair, breathing in her familiar scent. The straw was very pungent, but he could still make out her smell: a mix of vanilla and mango. _Why do girls have to go spritzing themselves with perfume?,_ Duncan thinks, _They smell perfectly fine without any of that. _He lets out a breath of air and tries to go back to sleep, but can't help but thinking about last night. If only he could rewind time and re-live that moment when Courtney kissed him.

"Duncan?" he hears her murmur. He opens his eyes and looks at her. Her huge, onyx eyes blink open and stare at him in a detached daze. Her stomach growls audibly and she cringes, her knee stopping dangerously close to his crotch. "Mmm… I'm hungry," she says, burrowing her face in the crook of his neck.

"We'd have to go back to the campsite to get food. There's none here at the barn," Duncan replies. Courtney looks up at him with her lips poised in an adorable pout as she debated staying where she was with Duncan or having to go back to the gypsies. But then her stomach growls again and she cringes.

"We can always come back here, right?" she asks, one hand clutching her stomach and the other absentmindedly drawing little patterns on Duncan's shoulder with her finger.

"Yeah, okay," Duncan reluctantly agrees. He sits up and Courtney follows suit. They stand up, brush the straw off their clothes, and climb down the ladder to the first floor of the barn. Duncan runs his hands through Courtney's hair, getting all the straw out. His hand lingers on her cheeks for a moment longer than necessary and he whispers, "I really wish you didn't have to cover up your freckles with dirt. They're cute." Even though he couldn't see her blushing through the dirt, he can feel the heat through his fingertips. After they leave the barn, Duncan closes the wooden door tightly to make sure no wild animals could infest the place, even though the roof was already collapsed in.

The walk back to camp seemed longer than the night before, probably because there seemed to be nothing left to talk about; at least, for the moment. As they walked through the forest hand-in-hand, butterflies flitted from wild flower to wild flower. Spiderwebs glistened in the morning dew, grasshoppers chirped, and small animals rustled their way through the underbrush. The sappiness of it all soaked into Duncan's heart, making him feel almost giddy. But he still walked with the usual swagger of a street urchin.

"Where the heck have you guys been?" Katia snaps the second they walk into the clearing. She storms over and grips Courtney's arm, and she drops Duncan's hand. "C'mon, Court, we gotta get going."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Duncan exclaims. "What the hell is going on around here?" Now that he noticed, gypsies were running around the clearing. Most of them were cleaning, others were cooking… "Are we having guests or something?"

"Something like that. The royal guards sent the chief a letter before the sun even came up saying that they're coming for a visit. We think they're implying that they suspect we have the princess," Katia explains. Courtney gasps, but her expression was unreadable. _Is the excited she might be able to go back? Or doesn't she want to leave?, _Duncan ponders. "So I'm going to have to teach Court here, like, every single belly-dancing move just so she can keep her cover of being a belly dancer. God. Hopefully you're a fast learner, or I swear…," Katia grumbles, tugging Courtney to a secluded corner of the clearing. Courtney gives Duncan a small smile over her shoulder, and Duncan smirks back at her, even though he was freaking out on the inside.

Once the two girls were gone, Duncan dashes for the gypsy chief's wagon. He leaps up all five steps in one jump and pounds his fist on the door nonstop until the door opens. The second the door is opened, Duncan pushes past the chief and runs his hands through his hair. He begins pacing back and forth across the small wagon, which was still slightly larger than the other wagons. The elderly chief quietly closes the door and stares at Duncan.

"What are we gonna do?" Duncan demands, his heartbeat rapidly climbing. "What if they find her? How are we even going to be ready in time?"

The chief, named Alin, walks over and puts his liver-spot-freckled hands on Duncan's shoulders, stopping him in his tracks. "Before I answer your questions, first you answer mine: Where did you go with the princess last night, after we finished talking?"

Duncan squirms out of Alin's grip and stands there. "Well… we just walked through the woods and… slept there until morning. And I taught her the Romanian alphabet," Duncan says, blurting out the part of the alphabet in hopes it would please the chief.

"Yes, I saw you both walk into the woods, but _where_ did you go? Where did you sleep?"

Duncan scratches the back of his neck, reluctant to give up his secret barn in the forest. "Just… trust me. We weren't in any danger. I'd never put the princess in danger," he swears.

"I know you wouldn't. Because you fucking care about her way too much!" Alin snaps. Duncan flinches, hearing the elderly man curse. It just seemed weird… and awkward, like he was in trouble.

"What's wrong with watching out for her?" he replies defensively, "Like, if I hadn't been at the well, those guys would have…"

"Oh, we're not starting the thing with the well again, Duncan! Melindu promised that she thought the princess was right behind her. They didn't mean to leave her behind," Alin tells Duncan.

"They might not have _meant _to, but they did."

"Duncan! Stop worrying about the girl for a bit. You have to let her take care of herself for once."

"I _do_," is all that Duncan can think of to say.

"You don't. You told me you saved her from a guard in the marketplace. Did you even have to get involved with her? No! And now your antics have put all the gypsies in jeopardy."

"I could go with the princess and hide in the woods," Duncan offers. "Then the royal guards wouldn't be able to find her, and it would be fine."

"The guards already know you associate with us. They'll expect to see you here."

"You could tell them I went to the marketplace," Duncan counters.

"But you haven't been in the marketplace for days. What will they think if you leave to go to the market the day the guards decide to come for a visit? They'll be mighty suspicious, let me tell you," Alin dismisses, "Now, go. Help the camp get ready for their arrival."

Duncan leaves the wagon and side-steps around all the bustling people of the clearing as he heads towards Courtney and Katia, who were belly-dancing on the side. He couldn't help but notice Courtney's long brown hair shaking as she danced. And now that he thought about it… all the other gypsies had short hair. "Hey, Princess?" Duncan asks warily.

The girls immediately stop dancing and Katia swings an arm around Courtney's shoulders. "Damn. This girl absorbs, like, everything I teach her. Now she knows all the moves, and all that's left to teach her are the routines," Katia says proudly.

"That's great. But, Princess, I think you should… cut your hair," Duncan says.

"Wait… _what_? Cut my hair? Why?" Courtney asks, appalled.

"You're the only gypsy with long hair. The royal guards will know something is wrong," Duncan elaborates.

"But… but… Katia has long hair!"

"That's only because I'm the gypsy chief's daughter. My hair is supposed to be long, so I can stand out in the crowd or whatever," Katia explains, waving her hand dismissively. "I can cut your hair, though. I cut everybody else's hair."

"I'm not sure…"

"Hey, she cuts _my _hair," Duncan tells her, trying to lighten the mood. He runs a hand through his hair. "I mean, look at me."

Courtney smiles good-naturedly and shoves his shoulder. "Fine," she agrees, "As long as it's not _too _short." She crosses her arms over her chest and looks at Katia.

"Great! Follow me to my bedroom. All my hair stuff is there. It won't take any more than ten minutes," Katia promises. She and Courtney walk over to Katia's wagon and Duncan takes a seat on a fallen log by the ashes of the bonfire pit. Suddenly, his friend Thomas sits down next to him and pats him on the back.

"Dang, dude, I heard you slept out in the woods with the princess," Thomas tells him.

Duncan laughed. "Thomas, nothing happened. We kissed, but… that was it," he admits.

"That sucks, man," Thomas says with a chuckle. He digs out a hand-rolled joint from his pocket and licks the tab, making sure it will stay closed. "Hey, you got a light?" he asks, and Duncan hands him a match. He strikes the match on the rough bark and lights up. He flicks the match into the dirt and takes a drag. "So, do you really like that chick? She seems a little uptight, though."

"Her name's Courtney," Duncan tells him, taking the joint from Thomas and taking a long drag before handing it back. He blows out the thick, musky-smelling smoke out of the corner of his mouth. "Yeah, I like her. She's not really uptight once you get to know her," Duncan informs him.

"You know we're only going to eventually give her back to the palace, right? After they pay the ransom and we attack the palace, of course. What're you going to then?" Thomas asks.

"Uh… right," Duncan says awkwardly, offering a little shrug. He still wasn't planning on attacking the palace, yet his still had no idea how to break the news to them.

"Whoa… gotta go man," Thomas abruptly declares. Duncan looks up to see Katia walking towards them.

"What? The big, bad Thomas is nervous in front of Katia?" Duncan teases.

"Yeah, whatever."

"Hey, why's Thomas leaving?" Katia asks as Thomas disappears into the forest.

"Uh… bathroom," Duncan excuses his friend.

"Alright, well… introducing the new, improved Court!" Katia exclaims, motioning towards her wagon. The door opens and Courtney steps out, with her chestnut brown hair cut in a bob that curled just under her jaw. She runs over to them with a huge smile on her face.

"How's it look? Don't lie," she asks self-consciously. Her smile disappears as she waits for his answer.

Duncan runs his fingers through her short hair and smirks. "Looks great," he says honestly. And truthfully, it _did_ make her look amazing. The short hair framed her face and made her eyes look bigger and browner than they actually were. Her smile reappears, lighting up her whole face.

Thomas runs into the clearing, out of the woods. "They're coming!" he announces. Gypsies begin running around, making the final preparations. Katia grabs Courtney's hand.

"Come on, we have to get going. _Now_."

Courtney turns to Duncan, confusion in her eyes. He cups her head in his hands and kisses her on the forehead. He drops his hands to his side and smirks. "Just follow Katia. I'll see you soon."

**

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(Author's Note: Duncan's POV will be in the next chapter, too. Thanks to edwardandbella4evah for the haircut idea! If you have any ideas for this story, please send them in a review or a PM and I WILL give you credit! Thanks!)


	12. AN: IMPORTANT Poll

**(Author's Note: Hey, guys! Sorry to disappoint, but this chapter is just one major Author's Note. But it's a majorly IMPORTANT Author's Note. This is the FINAL poll about the next stories I'm going to write. The previous poll was sort of a trial poll, since it was the first one I've ever made. Lol. Anyway, I added two more choices to the poll and I added more detail to the stories' descriptions. There are eight stories to choose from:**

**1) Courtney is an Indian in the Algonquian tribe located on the edge of the Great Plains and Colorado evergreen forests. As she's exploring the forest, she discovers a group of strange white people. The people are on the Lewis and Clark Expedition, and Duncan is one of their translators who also helps them carry supplies and map the land. Courtney and Duncan meet in the forest, and he just can't help but tease the stubborn Native American. Is Courtney willing to give up her life as an Indian to travel with him back to his home on the other side of the country?**

**2) Courtney is a prison guard at the best prison in the country, Alcatraz Island. Duncan gets arrested for partaking in robbery and gang activities, and he soon arrives on Alcatraz. Courtney is his guard, who is gorgeous, but also extremely strict. Talk about a bittersweet relationship. During a series of very unfortunate events, Courtney can't help but wonder if she's falling for the criminal. Soon, Duncan tries to convince her to escape the island to be with him. Will Courtney agree, or keep her duty to guard the Alcatraz prisons?**

**3) The United States is breaking apart into the Union and the Confederates. Duncan, even though he's definitely **_**not **_**racist, joins the Confederates because he enjoys the feeling of being a rebel. Courtney is one of the women spies for the North, and on a dangerous mission in the South, she gets captured as a prisoner of war. Duncan begins flirting with the stubborn POW, even though she seems intent on ignoring him. Will Duncan help her escape the Confederate prison camp to show Courtney how much he likes her, or will Courtney be executed for spying?**

**4) Courtney works at a ramshackle saloon in Southern California in a gold mining town. Her job as an employee is a dancer and a bartender. Duncan, a cowboy, comes into town during the Gold Rush to get a job as a gold miner. He strikes gold, and soon a rival cowboy rides into town to steal Duncan's newfound riches. Will Courtney's attempts to stop the shoot-out at noon be successful, or won't Duncan survive until the next day?**

**5) Duncan is known for being a rebel, going against every single adult's orders, no matter what the consequences. Courtney, on the other hand, is a notorious good-girl who always gets her way. One day, he sees her walking down the street and accepts the challenge of his friends to take her to Woodstock, which was a 4-day outdoor rock concert with non-stop music and a major drug-dealing spot. The challenge was for Duncan to turn her into a rebel just like him. And since that day was the day Courtney just so happened to be furious with her parents, she agrees to the date at Woodstock. Will Duncan's challenge succeed, or will she return to her goody-two-shoes ways?**

**6) Duncan is a wayward and violent pirate who sails the seas with his muscular crew. His ship docks at a pier in London, and the pirates head to go rob a bank for money to trade in foreign countries. I mean, how else are pirates supposed to make a living? On their way from escaping the bank and running back to their pirate ship, a rich girl accidentally steps in their way. Her name is Courtney, and she's from a long line of wealthy businessmen. Instead of running into her, Duncan just swoops her over his shoulder and kidnaps her onto his pirate ship, planning to ask for ransom from her wealthy father later on. As time goes on, Duncan forgets about his plans for ransom and decides he doesn't want her to leave him. But does Courtney feel the same way?**

**7) After successfully kidnapping Courtney and turning her into his gangster fiancée, the Log Cabin liquor-smuggling industry is thriving. She still has a lot to learn about being a true gangster, but soon the rival gangsters, called Racketeers, kidnap Duncan. Now it's Courtney's responsibility to lead the Log Cabin gangsters and rescue the love of her life. She has two options. One, she could pay the ridiculously large ransom, but that would mean destroying the Log Cabin business and putting them all in bankruptcy. Or two, she could perform a rescue mission and try to re-capture Duncan. But if the Log Cabin gangsters get caught… the Racketeers will kill Duncan on the spot. Which will Courtney choose?**

**8) Duncan's US infantry invades Berlin, heading into the thick of the fighting in World War II. His mission, as a sniper, is to shoot Nazi generals through the window of a Jewish apartment building that had been destroyed during Kristallnacht. When he meets a teenage Jewish girl in the rubble of the abandoned apartment building, he takes her to his military camp to save her from being captured by the Nazis. As Duncan begins falling for this beautiful Jewish girl, their military camp is raided by Nazi forces. Courtney is captured and sent to the worst concentration camp in Europe, called Auschwitz, located in Poland. Duncan isn't allowed to leave his infantry to save just **_**one **_**Jew from the concentration camp, when his infantry's duty is to stay in Berlin to invade Reichstag, the Berlin capital building. Will Duncan be able to live without her, or will Courtney miraculously survive the death camp? And if she does somehow survive Auschwitz, will she ever see Duncan again?**

**You're going to be able to choose THREE choices in the poll that is on my profile NOW. Choose wisely... these will be the only choices to choose from, as I will not be adding any more. Do NOT vote in a review for this story; they will not count. However, if you would like to voice your opinion about one of the choices for the poll, feel free to do that in a review. The results of this poll will be the order I will write these stories, because I WILL be writing ALL of these stories eventually. For example, the story with the most votes will be the first story I write about, after completing Princess Turns Peasant, of course. The story with the least amount of votes will be the last story I write about. Get it? Got it? Good. Now go vote!!!)**


	13. Piercing

Duncan watches as Katia drags Courtney across the clearing and into a ruby-red tent that had just been propped up for all the belly-dancers to do their makeup and get dressed in. He sits on a log by the fire while the rest of the gypsies quickly drag out wooden tables from all the wagons, lining them up to make one long wooden table. A deep navy tablecloth was draped over the table, hanging down over the edges. Middle-aged women collected all the mismatching silverware handed down from generation to generation and placed them around all the place settings.

Suddenly, Katia comes from out of nowhere it seems and grabs Duncan's arm. "Duncan! There's… one more thing we forgot," she whispers, nervously eyeing the belly-dancing tent where Courtney probably was.

"What's that?" he asks. Katia lets go of his arm and stands up straight, stretching out her torso and making her bellybutton piercing glitter in the firelight. She raises an eyebrow and holds her hands out like it was obvious. "…Oh."

"Yeah. Courtney's gonna need to pierce her bellybutton. But… how will she take it?" Katia asks nervously, biting her lip.

"Well… it doesn't matter if she just pouts or if she bursts out bawling. Either way, we're going to have to do it. How suspicious would it be if she was the only belly-dancer without a bellybutton piercing? Dammit! How could we have forgotten?" Duncan replies. He stands up and runs his hands through his hair while simultaneously blowing out a huge rush of air.

"We don't have much time, either. It has to be fast. Do you think _you'd _be able to do it? You're the fastest piercer in the camp," Katia begs.

Duncan knew Courtney would probably hate him for piercing her bellybutton, but he had to do it. "Sure. Let's just get this over with," he says, "But I'm doing it in the guest wagon and it'll just be me and her. Got that? Maybe if we're alone she'll take it better." Katia nods in response and Duncan walks towards the gypsy tent and brushes aside the red curtain, quickly stepping inside.

Girls scream and cover their naked torsos to glare at him, but all Duncan focuses on is Courtney, who was shyly messing with the gold bells on her skirt. She looks up to see what was making everybody scream, and her face clouds with confusion. She weaves through the crowd and around piles of clothes on the floor. "Why are you in here?" she whisper-demands.

"Just follow me," Duncan says. He takes Courtney's wrist and pushes aside the red curtain. Before leaving, though, he glares at Katia, daring her to follow them. Luckily, she stays behind. Duncan leads Courtney into the guest wagon where they were staying and he shuts the door.

"What is it?" Courtney asks, sitting down on her bed. Duncan doesn't answer, but grabs his piercing kit from underneath his bunk. He lays it on his bed, clicks it open, and begins rifling through the array of needles and antiseptic. Her eyes bulge out when the sees the needles, and her voice raises to a squeaky pitch. "I _said_, what's going _on_?! What are those needles for?"

"Please, Princes… just calm down. It won't hurt a bit. Can you lay down?" he asks, which probably wasn't the best approach. All it seemed to do was freak her out even more.

"What are you doing?! Tell me! Duncan! _What _won't hurt a bit?" she exclaims, curling up into a ball and shifting into the corner of her bunk.

Duncan sighs and gets down on his knees, kneeling at the edge of her bed. He sets the kit of needles on her mattress, and she stares at it like it was a bomb about to go off. "Listen, I don't want to hurt you at all, but… it's the only thing we can do. Katia pointed out that all belly-dancers have bellybutton piercings. And so… I need to pierce your bellybutton," he explains.

It was silent for a whole, agonizing minute before she finally answered. "No," she mumbles.

"But, darling, it's the only way. Every single other belly-dancer has a piercing, and you don't. I know you already have had to cover up your freckles, and had gotten that haircut… but the royal guards might notice the difference. Please?" Duncan begs. Courtney's eyes soften a bit and he takes advantage of her weakness to stick his bottom lip out. "Please?" he repeats.

Courtney groans and hit her forehead with a dull _thud _against the wall. "Don't do that," she moans with her eyes closed. After a bit, she opens one eye a crack to peek at him. His lip was still out and Duncan forces it to quiver a bit. Courtney forcefully squeezes her eyes shut again and lets out an exasperated groan. Finally, her eyes snap open and she sits Indian-style. "What do I have to do?" she sighs.

Duncan immediately breaks out in a smirk and pats the mattress in front of him. "I knew you couldn't resist, sweetheart," he teases. Courtney sits where he patted and looks at his hands, which were selecting a long needle.

"Wh-what do I have to do?" she asks, accidentally stuttering.

Duncan stacks a few pillows behind her. "Just lay down right here," he instructs. Courtney stretches out, head on the pillows. He takes a pair of tongs out of his kit and pinches a small area of skin right above her bellybutton. He wraps a rubberband around it to keep the tongs in place. On both ends of the tongs, there were holes for the piercing to go through. Then he takes a needle and holds it up to the hole.

"Ready?" he asks.

"As ready as I'll ever be," Courtney mumbles.

"Okay, you're going to feel a slight pinch," Duncan warns. "Now take a deep breath and just stay still for me." She takes a deep breath, and he sticks the needle through the holes of the clamp, through her pinched skin. Duncan quickly takes the needle from the other side and takes it out, while sticking a short bar through the hole. He takes a small rag and wipes the blood from the one side of the bar. Finally, he attaches a small silver ball to both ends and removes the tongs. "There you go, you're done," Duncan announces, putting the needle, tongs, and rag back into his kit.

Courtney lets out her breath of air in a huge rush and gingerly touches her bellybutton. She sucks in air through her teeth and winces. "Damn," she murmurs, "It stings."

"Yeah… It'll be a bit tender for a while," Duncan tells her. He holds out his hands and Courtney takes them, then he pulls her up off the bed. He kicks the piercing kit back under his bed and steps forward, backing Courtney into the wall. Duncan presses his chest to hers, pinning her arms to her side, and suggestively whispers into her ear, "It looks hot on you, though, Princess."

"Duncan--," Courtney starts to say, but is cut off by loud chatter coming from outside the wagon, most likely from the royal guards. Duncan immediately backs off and walks out of the wagon, followed by Courtney who heads back to the gypsy tent.

Duncan hangs out to the side of the crowd, lounging around by his friend Thomas. "Dude, I pierced Courtney's bellybutton," Duncan boasts. His friend was struggling to light another hand-rolled cigarette in the warm night wind.

"Who's Courtney?" Thomas finally asks once it was lit. "Ohhh… do you mean the prin--" Duncan begins a coughing loud and harshly, covering up for the fact that Thomas had almost said 'princess' when there was about twenty royal guards in the clearing. "Now I gotcha," Thomas continues, "That's awesome, man. I had no idea she was into that kind of stuff."

"Well… she's not. She had to get one so she's have a piercing just like the other belly-dancers," Duncan explains.

"Ah."

The royal guards had come into the clearing on horses draped without saddles; there were only colorful blankets draped over the animals' backs. They also came in a few carts pulled by muscular, probably pure-bred, mules. The guards each carried a gleaming sword and shield with them, as if they thought that the gypsies were actually _dangerous_. Duncan scoffed. As if.

Alin walked over to what looked like the leader of all the royal guards, since that guard was dressed in actual armor while the others were just dressed in fancy clothing. "Welcome to our humble camp. Please, have a seat. While the women of our tribe serve you, we have a performance by our team of dancers," he announces, gesturing towards the dining table.

The guards all sat at chairs around the table, Alin at the head of the table and the leader of the royal guards on the other side. The middle-aged women of the gypsy camp began shuffling back and forth between the table and the food wagon, silently serving the guards. The gypsy men sat on tree stumps and fallen logs all around the bonfire, sharing cigarettes with the person next to them and passing flasks around the circle.

"I totally can't wait for the belly-dancers to come out," Thomas says casually, taking a drag from a new joint that Duncan hadn't seen him light. In all the years of being friends with Thomas, Duncan had never _not _seen him with something to smoke or drink. "They really go all-out on their routines when the royal guards come."

"How would you know?" Duncan asks, refusing the joint when Thomas tries to hand it to him.

"The royal guards have come twice before. The last time was when Alin was being introduced to becoming leader of the little tribe thing, and the time before that… oh, I don't know. I think I was busy," Thomas says. He blows a puff of smoke directly into Duncan's face. He ignores it.

"Busy? More like you were stoned and got lost in the woods," Duncan jokes. But actually, it was pretty true. Things like that happened to Thomas a lot.

Thomas threw his head back and laughed. "_That _sounds about right," he admits. Thomas accepts a flask from a man to his right, takes a swig, and passes it on to Duncan, who also takes a drink and passes it on. "But seriously though. I know you weren't here the past two times the royal guards have come and the belly-dancers performed, so get ready for the best hard-on of your life." Thomas nudged Duncan and smirked. "Especially with that new friend of yours, _Courtney_," Thomas says, emphasizing Courtney's name as if it was weird to call her by her first name instead of just 'the princess.'

"Yeah. Right," Duncan replies, smirking. But honestly, he couldn't wait.

**

* * *

**

(Author's Note: Thanks to cornijcountry97 for the bellybutton idea! I loved writing about it. It reminded me a lot of getting my own bellybutton pierced. Lol. Also, you guys know the poll on my profile that's for the next story after this one? Well I'm adding Al Capone and Duncan Malone

_**TWO **_**as a choice. But I guess most of you have already seen that one by now. Haha. I have a really good idea for it if you guys choose it and, yes, Courtney will be an actual gangster in it. The new poll is up on my profile NOW! So go vote! And the song below is Toxic Valentine by All time Low, fyi.)**

* * *

_She's got a target painted on her back,  
And keeps a list of the qualities a good girl lacks.  
She bites her lip and tips her bottle,  
I take a drink cause the truth is hard to swallow.  
Oh, oh, oh_

_Sex and white lies,  
Handcuffs and alibis,  
She lays her halo on the pillow where she sleeps...  
Her heart beats, red wine,  
My toxic valentine.  
Lays her halo on her pillow that used to be mine.  
Oh, oh._

_I live a lifestyle full of first impressions.  
I've got my hands full of blood of the obsessions.  
She bites my lip, i'm sure to follow.  
We take a drink to the guilty and the hollow.  
Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh._

_Sex and white lies,  
Handcuffs and alibis,  
She lays her halo on the pillow where she sleeps.  
Her heart beats, red wine,  
My toxic valentine.  
Lays her halo on her pillow that used to be mine._

_Oh, oh.  
My toxic valentine,  
Oh, oh.  
My toxic valentine._

_I'm not the type to forget or to bury my head.  
Just take off your wings,  
They could never get you quite as high as i do,  
And you know and white lies,  
Handcuffs and alibis,  
She lays her halo on the pillow where she sleeps...  
Her heart beats, red wine,  
My toxic valentine.  
Lays her halo on her pillow that used to be..._

_Sex and white lies,  
Handcuffs and alibis,  
She lays her halo on the pillow where she sleeps...  
Her heart beats, red wine,  
My toxic valentine.  
Lays her halo on her pillow that used to be..._

_She lays her halo on her pillow that used to be mine._


	14. Performance

Courtney stood behind Katia in the belly-dancing tent, knees shaking with nerves. She drew in a shaky breath and gently fanned her face with her hands. "Is it just me, or is it hot in here?" she asks.

Katia turns around and assures her, "Don't worry. It's just your veil. And remember: Step, flick, shake, rotate, and repeat. You do remember those tips I told you, right?"

"Of course. Step, flick, shake, rotate, and repeat," Courtney reiterates with a firm nod of her head. Katia nods in approval and turns back around, facing the heavy burgundy curtain that sealed off the belly-dancing tent from the rest of the clearing. They were going to draw back the curtain once they got the signal from Alin.

Courtney pulls on her red silky veil which was so thin it was practically see-through, yet somehow the fabric really held the heat in. It was draped right over the bridge of her nose and tied behind her head. Her forehead was breaking out in a cold sweat, probably because of nerves… nervous that she'd have to dance in front of the royal guards, not because of the fact Duncan would also be watching her. _No. Definitely not that.  
_  
_Actually…_

Suddenly, the curtains were flipped back. _What? Had I missed the signal?_ All of the belly-dancers gracefully walked out of the tent, each of them pushing the red curtain back as they passed. _Don't mess up_, she warns herself as her hand pushes the curtain back. She walks on the balls of her feet, her heels barely hovering over the ground so it looked like she was still walking normally.

As she steps into the clearing, her heart leaps into her throat. There were about twenty royal guards sitting at a large dining table that was set up a few yards from the bonfire. And around the flickering flames sat all the male gypsies of the camp… including Duncan. Courtney tried not to make eye contact with him, but she could still feel his gaze on her at all times.

A small group of five or six men stood in the middle of the clearing, an array of various sizes of drums all around them. They viciously beat the drums with large wooden sticks, and the thumping bass beat pumped through the air and reverberated in everybody's chests. The belly-dancers float into their positions to begin their routine. Actually, it was pretty much already going on. As they walked, the dancers swayed their hips, flicked their hands, spun in tight circles, or moved their heads to the drum beat.

Finally, the belly-dancers were scattered in their individual spots around the clearing. The drummers halted, thrusting the small clearing into pure silence. The belly-dancers froze in place right as the drums stopped, their heads down and looking at the ground, their legs together and arms at their sides. Step, flick, shake, rotate, and repeat, Courtney reminds herself of Katia's instructions as she stares at the grass underneath her bare feet. Then the drums began again in a rapid, tropical-sounding drum beat and the belly-dancers suddenly begin dancing again.

Step. Courtney snaps her head up and takes a step forward with her right foot. Flick. She raises her arms straight into the air her head and flicks her wrists, making the bells on her bracelets ring out. Shake. With her right foot still out, Courtney shakes the right side of her hip back, forth, back, forth. Rotate. She puts the majority of her weight on her left foot and slowly rotates in a circle, still shaking her hip and flicking her hands. Repeat. After she's turned in a full circle, she repeats the entire dance, but this time with her left foot and her left hip.

Courtney looks up halfway through her second turn, and she sees the rest of the belly-dancers doing the exact same move she was. Just seeing them all dancing simultaneously brings a small smile to her lips, underneath her flimsy red scarf. As the drums beat into a slower beat, the belly-dancers all walk to the center of the clearing, swinging their hips and jingling their bracelets all the way. They line up in a line and raise their hands in the air.

The drums slow down even more to a steady, sexy beat. One man from the drum band takes out a rain stick and tilts it upside-down; the beads drizzle down, sounding like raindrops on a tin roof. "Ready for the finale?" Katia murmurs into Courtney's ear from behind her, her mouth hidden behind her scarf.

"What finale?" Courtney asks, right as all the other belly-dancers began swinging their hips in wider arcs and slowly getting lower and lower to the ground.

"The grinding chain, of course," Katia answers. Suddenly, a complete stranger belly-dancer who was standing in front of Courtney backs up against Courtney and begins grinding her. An awkward, guttural noise bubbles up from Courtney's throat as she stands petrified in shock. "Hurry the hell up and start grinding! If you don't start grinding in, like, three seconds, you're going to make a scene."

Courtney awkwardly bends her knees and begins shimmying; the only thing she knew how to do. "Why the fuck didn't you tell me?!" she shrieks in a whisper. She feels Katia step closer to her, her thigh grazing Courtney's butt.

"We always end our performances like this and the royal guards would be suspicious if we didn't do it this time. We didn't tell you because we knew you'd just refuse and blow our cover if you disappeared during the last half of the performance," Katia whispers into her friend's ear. "Now grind against me. All you're doing is shimmying."

"Shut up," Courtney snaps, "I'm doing the best I can under such short notice. And wouldn't it also blow our cover if I couldn't 'grind' like you guys can?"

"It doesn't matter. At least you're attempting to grind, which for some reason, the guys seem to love," Katia replies. "Shimmy your hips against my leg, at least. That'll at least resemble grinding."

Courtney's cheeks flamed as she leaned against her friend and swayed her hips. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the royal guards staring at them and practically drooling into their placemats. But at least they didn't look suspicious. And Courtney didn't even think about glancing in Duncan's direction. She'd pretty much die if he smirked at her at this moment.

After a few minutes, Courtney was getting a hang of it. Her hands were above her head, making small circles in the air and the bells on her bracelets were jingling. Her eyelids were at half-mast, like the rest of the belly-dancers'. The longer they danced, the lower they bent their knees and leaned against the other dancers. One of Katia's thighs was between Courtney's legs, and the anonymous belly-dancer's butt had been grinding on Courtney's leg for so long that her thigh was beginning to numb. At least the royal guards had no clue who she actually was; Courtney just focused on keeping up the charade.

The drums suddenly ceased, and all the belly-dancers flung themselves to the ground. Courtney followed suit, and as the dancers laid still on the ground, applause rose up from the crowd. The belly-dancers stood up and walked toward the bonfire to the male gypsies, barely swaying their hips while they walked. Courtney kept her eyes to the ground in front of her.

Out of her peripheral vision, she noticed the belly-dancers sitting in the laps of random guys around the bonfire, since all the other seats were taken by the men. Courtney finally looks up and sits in Duncan's lap without a note of greeting. "Not one word," she hisses, looking away from him.

She could practically feel him smirking as he wound his arms around her waist and pulled her to him. Her back was leaning against his chest, and her up-do of hair was smashed against his bare shoulder, since all he was wearing was a thin white cotton tank top.

After a few moments of silence, he puts his lips her ear. His warm breath blew against her neck and his lips grazed the tip of her ear. "You still looked sexy, though," he whispers. Courtney's whole body stiffens and she glares into the fire.

"Be glad there are too many witnesses around for me to completely castrate you," Courtney threatens under her breath, knowing Duncan heard her.

He laughs in his no-holds-barred way of his. His laughter echoed through the trees behind them, and his body shook Courtney in his lap. "You wish you could get into my pants, Princess," Duncan replies with his signature smirk.

**

* * *

**

**(Author's Note: Ahh… grinding chains *sighs wistfully* It reminds me of homecoming. Lol. Btw, sorry I was gone for soooo long!! I was grounded for a week, which is why I haven't been able to update in pretty much forever. New chapter up soon, just because I feel guilty about keeping you all waiting for so long. Also, I'm sorry that chapter wasn't in Duncan's POV like I promised you all before. I just didn't feel like writing the whole thing from a horn-dog's POV. Haha. The song is Hot Mess by Cobra Starship.)**

**

* * *

**

_You were a problem child  
Been grounded your whole life  
So now you running wild  
Playing with them good girls  
No that ain't your style_

You think your hot shit  
You cool, I love it, I love it  
Yeah, yeah  
Stumbling but yeah, you're still looking hella fine  
Keep doing what you're doing and I'ma make you mine

Well, you're a hot mess and I'm falling for you  
And I'm like hot damn let me make you my boo  
cause you can shake it shake it shake it  
Yeah you know what to do  
You're a hot mess  
I'm loving it, hell yes

I've been hypnotized  
The city's your playground,  
I watch you take a bite  
At 5am roaming in the streets  
Drunk all night

You think your hot shit  
You cool, I love it, I love it  
Yeah, yeah  
Stumbling but yeah, you're still looking hella fine  
Keep doing what you're doing and I'ma make you mine

Well, you're a hot mess and I'm falling for you  
And I'm like hot damn, let me make you my boo  
cause you can shake it shake it shake it  
Yeah you know what to do  
You're a hot mess  
I'm loving it, hell yes

You're a hot mess and I'm falling for you  
And I'm like hot damn let me make you my boo  
cause you can shake it shake it shake it  
Yeah you know what to do  
You're a hot mess  
I'm loving it, hell yes

If you're dancing up on tables  
You go you go, you got it girl  
Say that you're unstable  
You go coco, you got it girl  
Dancing up on tables  
Say that you're unstable  
You're a haha haha ha yeah you're a hot mess  
Haha haha ha we're singing hell yes

Well, you're a hot mess and I'm falling for you  
And I'm like hot damn let me make you my boo  
cause you can shake it shake it shake it  
Yeah you know what to do  
You're a hot mess  
I'm loving it, hell yes  
You're a hot mess and I'm falling for you  
And I'm like hot damn let me make you my boo  
cause you can shake it shake it shake it  
Yeah you know what to do  
You're a hot mess  
I'm loving it, hell yes (hell yes)  
Hot mess  
I'm loving it, hell yes (hell yes)  
Hot mess  
I'm loving it, hell yes


	15. AN: On Hold

**(Author's Note: Okay, I am so so so so so sorry I haven't been updating lately. It's not that I'm tired of the story, it's just that I have noooo idea how to continue it. I mean, I know what's going to happen eventually, like, near the end, I just don't know how to sequence the events up until that point. Here's a HINT: THEY ARE GOING TO ATTACK THE PALACE. Who are they? Maybe just Courtney and Duncan, maybe all the gypsies together. How are they going to attack it? Maybe they'll fight with swords or with cannonballs. Why are they going to attack it? ... Um, yeah, if I give you another hint it'll be too obvious. But I just need to figure what's going to be coming up next for this story, so while I do that, this story will be on hold.**

**Now just so ALL of you don't hate me, I actually posted this A/N chapter to share some good news... or, at least, hopefully you guys think it's good news. Anyway, on my profile or the home page of Total Drama Island, you'll be able to find the new story I posted. Guess what it's called... Al Capone and Duncan Malone 2!!! Yeahhhh :) So check it out. I have a really really really really good feeling about this story. And if you guys have any ideas for Princess Turns Peasant, too, please give them to me in a PM or a review so I can continue on with the story! Thanks! And don't hate me!)**


End file.
